The Rose Throne

by Mette Ivie Harrison

  “Of course. A thousand times. It would make everything easier, wouldn’t it? But I am who I am.”

  “But if the weyrs come together, what then?” asked Issa.

  “You mean the prophecy? I’ve always thought that meant the end of the world. When the two islands come together again, when the two weyrs are one—it’s the same as saying when the sun falls out of the sky or the ocean doesn’t gnaw at the weyr anymore.”

  “I see,” Issa said, and tucked herself into her bedroll after seeing to the prince’s puppy. But she did not sleep for some time. She could not stop thinking that the woman might be right, that the end of the world was more likely to come before Rurik and Weirland could ever be truly joined.

  While it was still cool the next morning, the party proceeded onward to the land bridge. Issa had thought she was prepared for it, but as the bridge came in sight, the ocean filled her ears. Her legs felt dead to her, and her whole body had to be forced to work. Her eyes did not blink without conscious effort. Her lungs did not take in air unless she made them. She could even feel her heart skipping now and again, and it left her in agony.

  For the first time in her life, Issa wished that she had no weyr, if it would make this moment easier. To be unweyr in a place like this would be a gift.

  With a deep breath to steady herself, Issa stepped onto the land bridge. It was only a little wider than the span of a large horse, and none of the party was willing to go closer to the edge, so everyone walked in single file. Issa focused on each footstep, fearful that she might slip and fall. The servants led the horses, which were afraid of the sound of the ocean and the height of the bridge above the cliffs and could not be calmed with neweyr.

  The sound of the puppy’s sudden whining filled Issa’s ears as she stumbled along.

  “It is—the same—every time,” gasped one of the male servants who walked behind her. The man looked gray and ill. Issa suspected that she must look even worse.

  If she had ever doubted, here was proof that the ekhono were nothing like the unweyr. The one unweyr her father had sent with her had come exactly for this purpose, to make sure everyone crossed the land bridge safely. He was ahead now, coaxing animals and servants along one by one.

  “How many—times—have you crossed before?” Issa asked the unweyr servant, trying to focus on something other than the ocean’s rage.

  “Eighteen,” said the man.

  Issa stared at him in astonishment.

  The ocean here rose up against the white cliffs on both sides of the bridge and sprayed in magnificent plumes of white foam and waves of watery needles. To look down and see the shore far below made her ill.

  The salty, angry smell of the ocean was overpowering, and there were no birds overhead, nor any other animals that Issa could see or hear. The roar of the waves themselves was the only, constant noise.

  This was the point at which, a thousand years ago, King Arhort had split apart the two kingdoms and the two weyrs at the early death of his beloved wife. He had not been able to save her with his neweyr, and he felt that if he was in pain, the whole world should be in pain with him. If he could not save the life he wanted with neweyr, he would never use it again, only the taweyr, which matched his dark anger. And after the kingdoms were sundered, every man could only use the taweyr, and every woman the neweyr. Except for the ekhono.

  Suddenly, Issa felt the hand of the unweyr man on her and he pulled her over the last part of the land bridge. “Safe, Princess?” he asked as she stepped off the bridge onto the steady land.

  She nodded and let herself take in the first breath of Rurik. She felt enormous relief at being away from the ocean, almost as if she was weightless. This was not her home, but there was neweyr here, if not as strong as what she was used to.

  They continued for a few more hours, each step away from the bridge making Issa feel better. Then exhaustion seemed to hit the whole party, and they stopped in the dim light of early evening.

  Issa asked the ekhono servant she had talked to on the land bridge, “Is it worse for those who have more weyr?”

  “Yes.” He looked at her a moment. “There are many tales of those who have died near here, or who have thrown themselves into the water. There are rituals described in great detail for avoiding such an awful fate. Some of the servants were chanting them as we crossed. Did you not hear them?”

  “I heard nothing, nothing at all,” said Issa. She shuddered and pulled her cloak more tightly around her, but she could still hear the ocean roaring at her again, tearing at her neweyr and laughing at the prophecy she hoped to fulfill.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Issa

  AFTER THE MONTHLONG JOURNEY through the craggy north and wet and muddy center of Rurik, Issa and her company arrived at the city of Skorosa in midsummer. The long travel had given Issa some understanding of the effort it had cost Duke Kellin to visit his brother. The royal party had become lost for a time, and Issa had feared that they would never reach the palace. But in the end, they were only two days late coming into the city.

  They entered the city at midday, under a hot, cloudless sky that made Issa feel as if she were utterly exposed. The city of Skorosa itself was unlike any place Issa could have imagined. So many buildings, so many people crowded all together. She was sure that all of Weirland did not hold so many. All this time, she had thought the neweyr was in danger because of King Haikor, but she wondered now if the land itself might be insufficient to the needs of the people who lived there.

  The buildings on the outskirts of the city were ramshackle, with thistle or daub and wattle roofs, as in Weirland. There were children running everywhere, clothed and not, dirty-faced, singing and pointing at her. She was a little frightened by them, and she kept a tight hold on the puppy for Prince Edik.

  Then Issa and her retinue reached a more bustling part of town, its narrow streets crammed with horses and wagons. She could see signs for taverns, bakeries, seamstresses, and any number of businesses. There were also plenty of merchants hawking their wares in the middle of the street. Some seemed angry, shaking their fists at the party for passing without stopping to make a purchase.

  As the party drew closer to the palace, they passed elaborate homes of white and gray stone, with stained-glass windows and white columns on either side of their entrances. There were no buildings like these in Weirland. Even the servants on the street seemed better dressed than Issa was. She glanced down at herself and wondered if her gown would stand out in King Haikor’s court. She had worked so hard to find the best that was in Weirland, but now she was anxious once more. She handed the puppy back to one of the servants and heard it whimper as the basket lid was closed over it.

  Then Issa reached up to be sure her hair was still neatly pulled into one sleek braid down her back. Eventually, she would have to wear her hair in the elaborate styles worn by the women in the court of King Haikor. But for her reception at court and her first meeting with Prince Edik, she would be seen as a Weirese princess first.

  At last, Issa and her retinue rode up to the gates of the palace itself. The Tower that King Haikor had erected to hold prisoners was so tall that Issa could see it swaying slightly in the breeze above her. The stone was gray at the top, but toward the bottom it became gradually darker. It looked like a huge burning candle, and she felt as if she might easily be caught in that fire and consumed. The Tower dwarfed the rest of the palace, which was smaller and lighter in color, and rambling in shape.

  In a moment, the gates were opened, and Issa and her company dismounted and walked inside behind the keep master and his men. The air beneath the gate was cool, and Issa reminded herself she must look the princess here, so she held her head high as she moved through the courtyard. But by the time she reached the keep itself, her legs felt sodden and dragging, as if she had walked a mile through the river Weyr.

  The keep master bowed and relinquished the lead to the palace guard. He led them forward, up stairs and through corridors, until at last the p
arty entered the famed Throne Room of King Haikor. The walls were covered in dark, carved, wooden panels, and the windows were made of colored glass in the red and black of Rurik. There were weapons mounted on all the walls, spears, swords, and scimitars, scythes, and battle-axes, including one that looked like it was still covered in dried black blood. Issa knew that the weapons could be swung off the wall by anyone with taweyr.

  Sitting on the enormous throne was King Haikor, and at his right side, a boy with arms, legs, and a neck that all seemed too long for his body. He looked as if he had grown a great deal recently, and he seemed gawky and unsure of himself. He wore a gold crown on his glossy black hair, and she guessed this must be Prince Edik, though he bore little resemblance to the boy in the portrait.

  To the king’s left was a woman hardly older than Issa herself, buxom and small-featured, her hair teased into an elaborate coif complete with birds and flowers. Issa might have thought she was the other princess, but to the right of the young prince stood a tall young woman with bright red hair, a pale face, and a long nose. She wore a haughty expression, and while her eyes met Issa’s easily, there was no warmth in them. She was so like her father in appearance that Issa knew immediately this was Ailsbet, princess of Rurik.

  Issa could well believe that a woman like this could be unweyr, for there was nothing feminine or kind or inviting about her. She turned back to look at Prince Edik, who seemed as nervous as Issa herself. He, at least, would not frighten or intimidate her.

  She stepped forward and curtsied to King Haikor. As princess of Weirland, she did not wait for him to raise her up, but she let him take her hand. He kissed it formally, and then offered it to his son.

  Prince Edik’s eyes were a fine and shining blue. “Princess Marlissa of Weirland,” he said, his voice cracking on the last word.

  “Prince Edik of Rurik, I greet thee,” said Issa. She turned to the servant behind her, who handed her the basket with the sleek black puppy. She offered it to Prince Edik and saw his face change completely. He bent his head down and let the puppy lick it, whispering words of encouragement to the small animal. He was obviously thrilled, and Issa knew she had chosen well, though Kellin ought rightly to get some of the credit for that.

  “You are welcome to my kingdom and to my palace,” said Edik formally, his eyes dancing.

  Now Issa offered King Haikor the gift from her father, which was a dagger with a white stone hilt carved with the great stag of Rurik.

  King Haikor took it and twisted it, a gleam in his eye.

  King Jaap had chosen well, but the other king’s response did not make Issa comfortable.

  “This is Lady Pippa,” said King Haikor, with a wave of his hand to the gaudily dressed noblewoman who was young enough to be her older sister. “My companion.”

  “It is an honor to meet you, Lady Pippa,” Issa murmured politely. She had not thought to bring a gift for her and felt a moment’s pause.

  But Lady Pippa smiled and greeted Issa eagerly. “Princess Marlissa, you are welcome to Rurik. We are so delighted to have you here and think—”

  “And this is my daughter, Princess Ailsbet,” said King Haikor, cutting off Lady Pippa.

  The tall princess curtsied briefly to Issa.

  “I have waited long to see the princess of Rurik,” said Issa.

  Princess Ailsbet said nothing in return.

  Issa turned back to her servants and found the ekhono woman was handing her the gift she had brought for Ailsbet from her father’s library.

  “It is a collection of some of my favorite poems,” said Issa. “I have marked some of them for you.” She opened one of the pages and held out the book.

  The other princess raised an eyebrow and then stared down at the book with disdain. “It is not a poem that would be suited for music, is it?” she said.

  Issa felt a fool. She knew that Princess Ailsbet was musical. Why hadn’t she brought her something more appropriate to that? But the moment was over, and her impression on the other princess was made. She could only try to do better later.

  “Princess Marlissa, we hope to see you at dinner this evening,” said King Haikor. “I am sure that you would prefer to rest now. The journey must have been exhausting.”

  Issa had just the presence of mind to whisper “Thank you,” to the king. She felt herself trembling as if she were on the land bridge again, with the water howling beneath her, the ocean tearing at her power.

  Then suddenly, Issa heard a different, familiar voice. “Princess Marlissa.”

  She looked up into the eyes of Duke Kellin.

  “The king asked me to help you feel more at home here, since you and I are acquainted already.”

  But Duke Kellin would make her feel more self-conscious than ever. Issa was suddenly aware of her disarray after her long weeks of travel.

  She reached for the faint pull of the neweyr and embraced it, gradually feeling stronger. “I only need time to rest,” she said.

  “Of course,” said Kellin. He nodded to a servant and asked him to show her to her rooms. Then he bowed and was gone.

  Issa desperately wanted to call him back, but she knew she could not. He was King Haikor’s man here, and she dared not reveal what else she knew of him.

  When she and her retinue were headed to her rooms, Issa heard the ekhono woman from Weirland complaining angrily about King Haikor’s treatment of Issa. “He makes it very clear how weak he finds her and Weirland itself. She should return home immediately.” The woman looked red in the face, and her fists were clenched, as if she were ready to fight.

  It took a moment for Issa to think of why the woman, so controlled before, had changed. It was the taweyr here in Rurik, and in the palace itself. Without neweyr to balance it, the taweyr made the woman overly aggressive.

  “I am well. You are well. He has not harmed us,” she said calmly. “Beware the taweyr here.”

  The ekhono woman took a breath and seemed to steady herself. But after a moment, she said, “King Haikor has more than one kind of poison.”

  Was it any wonder that his court is as it is, Issa thought. How did his noblemen survive it? How did Kellin keep himself so calm?

  Issa slept fitfully that night, dreaming of a joust between King Haikor and her father. She called out again and again to stop the spear from entering her father’s chest, but started awake before she saw the end of the dream.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Ailsbet

  AILSBET ENVIED THE OTHER princess’s poise. She had meant to say some words of welcome of her own, and thank her for the gift of the fine book. But Princess Marlissa was so perfect, every movement so graceful, every part of her dainty and feminine. Next to her, Ailsbet felt huge and ungainly, and when she opened her mouth, the only thing that came out was her own anger and mistrust.

  When the Weirese visitors were gone, King Haikor laughed. “What a gift she brought you,” he said to Edik. “That little black puppy is good for nothing but to be dinner for my true hounds.”

  Edik shook his head and held the young hound close to his chest while the king turned to Ailsbet.

  “And you, a book for a princess? As though you had nothing better to do with your time than read,” said King Haikor. “But in Weirland, I suppose there is nothing else to do. And a woman there does not think of beauty.”

  Ailsbet rather preferred a woman who thought of more than beauty.

  “The dagger she gave to me was fine enough, but did you see how she had her hair braided like that, in one single plait down her back? Like a peasant woman, except that in Rurik even peasant women have better taste. What did you think of her, Edik?”

  Edik shrugged. “She was old,” he said.

  That made King Haikor laugh again. “Old indeed. Old in the way her lips press together, in the way her eyes squint, in the way that she looked in judgment on us all. I daresay that if she caught you having a bit of fun, she would never forgive you. She will only get older and more disagreeable, I am afraid. But you must do
your duty to your kingdom. It is what princes are made for. And kings.” He nudged his son.

  At this, Ailsbet had enough, and she returned to her own rooms and her flute. She played indifferently, however, unable to find her usual focus.

  A knock on her door startled her, and she found Duke Kellin outside. She was sure from his expression that he had some distasteful message from her father.

  “What is it?” she asked. She reminded herself that she had seen him with the ekhono girl on the coast last summer. She knew his secret, and he did not know hers. She had power over him, and no reason to be afraid.

  “It has been some time since I had a chance to speak to you, Princess Ailsbet,” said Duke Kellin. “I only wanted to tell you that I am sorry for your loss.”

  Ailsbet blinked at him, for a moment too surprised to speak.

  “Your mother and your betrothed,” said Kellin. “Lord Umber.”

  No one had spoken of Queen Aske since the funeral in the winter. It was as if King Haikor had never been married before, as if Lady Pippa were the only noblewoman on whom he had ever bestowed his favor. As for Lord Umber, he was only mentioned when King Haikor wished to embarrass Ailsbet.

  “You did not know my mother well, and you did not like Lord Umber,” said Ailsbet. “How can I believe you are genuine?”

  “I did not like Lord Umber, it is true. But that is no fault of yours, and his loss must have been painful.”

  His sympathy, whether real or not, made her uncomfortable. “You don’t know me at all,” said Ailsbet coldly.

  “I should like to know you, if you would let me,” said Kellin.

  “And why should I do that?” asked Ailsbet. Was this the beginning of his courting her, so he could assume the power that had belonged to Lord Umber as the betrothed of the king’s only daughter?

  “Because you need a friend?” said Kellin. Seeing a hint of a smirk on his face, Ailsbet thought he must be amusing himself with her.

  She thought of all the ladies of the court who had pretended to befriend her, through her childhood. She had seen through them, even when she was very young.