"You would think so, wouldn't you. And Aeron well might, from all that I have heard. It seems she was as sickened by Bellator, in the end, as any of us--Yes, Aeron well might. And I certainly would. But I am not King here."
"At least, not yet, my brother." Enjoying the effect of a perfect cue, Talorcan stood in the doorway. "Leave us, lady," he added, not looking at Camissa.
Elathan nodded, and only then did she move to obey, drawing in her silk skirts as she passed Talorcan, as if she feared to sully them by brushing against him. She turned in the door to drop a deep respectful curtsy to Elathan, gave Talorcan an unsmiling two-second stare, and was gone.
Talorcan grinned and came forward to lounge by the parapet in a low marble seat.
"Your so charming betrothed seems to stand in need of further instruction in Court manners. I am, after all, demiroyal, and the next male heir of line after yourself."
"The Princess Rauni precedes you in the line of succession," said Elathan with some heat, "and as for the Lady Camissa--"
"--who will be the Crown Princess Camissa by year's end... and in the fullness of time should become Queen Camissa. I hope, Elathan, that by then she will have altered her bearing towards me, and have come to love me as a brother."
"Then see to it you bear yourself to her like one!" snapped Elathan. "No brother looks so at his sister-to-be."
Talorcan laughed, not offended. "Never fear, I have no designs on your little ladyship. She'll make a most decorative Princess. But enough talk of women, I would far liefer hear your thought on Bres's plan for alliance with the Imperium and the war with Keltia."
"I thought you wearied of talk of women," said Elathan pettishly. "If we speak of Keltia, we must speak of Aeron Aoibhell."
"Oh, that one. She is a royal ruffian, and I am not surprised by what I hear about her." He stretched his legs out in front of him, admiring the slashed and jeweled leather of his boot-tops. "No, what does surprise me is you, brother. I listened to you most of the way from Alphor, and I confess I am still confounded. This sudden longing of yours to hold out a hand to Keltia--a hand without a sword in it--seems greatly to displease the King our father... and to be something out of character for you as well."
Elathan studied his half-brother, seeing the traces of their mutual sire in the lines of mouth and chin, though Talorcan's dark hair and light eyes were rather a legacy from the Lady Thona, Bres's legal concubine since before his marriage to Elathan's mother, Basilea, and so Talorcan was a year the legitimate prince's senior.
"You know perhaps not so much of what is either in or out of my character as you seem to think," he said at last. "I fear that my father will not rest until he has made the scars of yesterday to be tomorrow's bleeding wounds. By the time I am King here, there will be no smallest hope of peace--the Kelts will have hated us too much and too long for it."
"And Aeron?"
Elathan's laugh was short and bitter. "Aeron! If she does not slay my father in combat, or he her--I could have been her friend, Talorcan, and she mine; I know that she would have been full willing to call halt to this madness if--" He gave his half-brother a twisted smile. "Do you know, the Kelts even gave us our name? They called us Fomori with such insistence over the past three thousand years that we took the name for our own... No, of course I shall support my father. I shall ride beside him in battle and stand beside him in council--and that is all that you, or he, or anyone else, need be concerned with. What I may or may not feel about the matter--that, son of Thona, is a matter for myself alone."
"For the present," said Talorcan.
He did not look round as Elathan went back into the palace, but turned in his seat to lean his chin on the parapet and look down over the city.
"For the present," he repeated, smiling. "But, my royal brother, I shall not forget it for the future."
*
"Are there no temples here?" asked Haruko one morning.
"Temples?" said Morwen, puzzled.
"Churches, holy places. For formal public worship?"
"Oh, you mean the nemetons. You have seen pictures of them, I am sure--they are great stone circles, located all over Keltia in the sacred places."
"Could I go there, do you think? I'd like to meditate in some place a little more conducive to it than Turusachan."
"Anyone may go to the stones at any time, of course, for any reason or no reason. The chief nemeton is on Mount Keltia, the Holy Mountain, where almost nobody ever feels brave enough to go. Aeron went, one time, before her coronation--all our kings and queens must do so, before they may be crowned--but even she was terrified. That circle is called Caer-na-gael, and is the place of most awe in all our worlds." She eyed him with some amusement. "It is said that if you pass a night there and survive, by sunrise you will be either a poet or a madman... though I think myself there is little differ."
"Ah. Well, perhaps some other time--"
"Nay, nay," she said laughing, "there is a circle much closer to hand, and far less perilous, though still of course very holy: Ni-Maen, the personal nemeton of the royal house. It is up on the mountain behind Turusachan, along the Way of Souls. There it is that all the sainings and handfastings and passing rites of the House of Aoibhell are held. There all our dead rulers are barrowed, and there it is also that Aeron leads the services, on the eight hallowdays of our faith."
"She does? Why not Ffaleira or Teilo?"
"The sovereign is also our Chief Priest or Priestess; it has been so with us ever since the days of Brendan. Some monarchs make more of their sacred duties than others: The Ard-righ Fionnbarr cared but little for it, and did only what the law required, while the Ard-rian Keina, of my own Clann Douglas, has been venerated as a saint these thousand years."
"You have monasteries of Druids, I am told, and convents of the Ban-draoi. Is it they who take care of the poor, do works of charity and such?"
Morwen looked sideways at him, startled. "Poor! What poor?"
"Well, surely everyone in Keltia can't be as--comfortable as the folk here in the palace?"
"Nay, you are right there, some families are certainly wealthier than the Aoibhells, or even the Douglases." She laughed outright at the look on his face. "Forgive me, Theo, I know what you wish to learn. Well, we have no poor. The brehon laws are so structured that if any poverty or want or lack occurs under any lord's jurisdiction, and that lord does not alleviate it, he--or she--is held personally liable; subject to a fine, and loss of honor-price too. It is so instinctive a thing with us that we seldom think of it; it works of itself."
Haruko said slowly, "You mean you have--no poor people."
"Not one, in the sense you mean. All Kelts, from the highest rank to the lowest, have their basic needs assured by law: food, shelter, employment and the like. Of course, there is no law forcing anyone to take advantage of any of this--though I for one have met very few who wished to be hungry or homeless or idle--but in Keltia, the fear at least of these things is nonexistent. That is the reality of the clann system. Widows and orphans do not suffer hardship, old folk do not starve or die alone, victims of disaster need not fear lack. Their clanns care for each of them, under the authority of the clann chief. If for some extraordinary reason the system should go awry, any Kelt may then appeal directly to the Crown, as Chief of Chiefs, and the petition must then be met at that level. In practice, it fails so seldom--I cannot call to mind the last instance, but it was certainly no more recent than the reign of Aeron's great-great-grandfather--that such appeals are almost never necessary."
Haruko thought, with indescribable feelings of bitterness and envy, of the hungry billions still afflicting Earth, the wretched children of excess still being born and still dying like flies. Presently he shook his head.
"You shame us," he said quietly.
"Ah, no shame, only bad management. Do not forget, we have been at this for a very long time. Even though our numbers have increased many thousandfold since our earliest days, the laws still hold, and still work. If your own Ear
th governors were subject to a few stiff brehon corp-diras, you would see a difference very swiftly, I am certain."
"And the Queen? Suppose the monarch refused to honor the law?"
"In Keltia no one is above the law or beyond it, not even the sovereign. Especially not the sovereign... Aeron can be fasted against, or overruled by the Chief Brehon, or even challenged to personal combat either magical or military, though she is nemed, sacred of person, and may not be otherwise declared against in any court of justice, Low, Middle, or High. Indeed, under our law, the people even have the power to depose her at any time for sufficient cause."
But Haruko was still a few thoughts back. "Combat! You mean she would have to fight?"
Morwen nodded, very serious now. "She has done so, and won, two times already. Even though the Fianna has the right to supply the monarch's military champion, and the Dragon Kinship the like right to furnish a magical champion, and both posts are currently filled by most worthy individuals, like the Ard-rian Jenovefa before her, Aeron prefers to be her own champion in both forms of combat."
"But to risk her so!"
"It is Aeron's concept of her duty as Ard-rian," said Morwen quietly. "Though if she were any less skilled either as warrior or sorceress we would never permit it--But it is the fior-comlainn, the truth-of-combat: to defend in her own person the reality of Keltia. And if it should come to war, Theo--well, that would be the ultimate fior-comlainn. Aeron would not stand away from that fight, not while the life was in her."
*
"I do this against my resolution quite," remarked Arianeira, watching Tindal's long slender fingers assembling steel and crystal into a makeshift, though powerful, communicator.
"Resolution or not," said Tindal through his teeth, pulling a laser-cone into position, "you have no choice. Before I take any more chances I may regret, tapping into the combanks of the Sword like this, by God I want to know who I'm dealing with. This"--he indicated the miniaturized communicator--"should be able to poke through the Curtain Wall without leaving an overly noticeable hole, as it were. I want to make sure everything is as you claim it is, and to do that I intend to have a chat with your Imperial friend. I'm a cautious person, as you will see." He tightened a final fitting and stood up. "There. Call him, Kynon."
Five minutes later Jaun Akhera's image formed in the viewscreen. His appearance was immaculate as ever, though a faint overlay of displeasure darkened his countenance.
"I permitted this communication, Princess, because I thought it better to complete it once it had been begun. But I do not like it, and I thought I had given orders against it, and I expect it to be both very brief and very important."
Arianeira reddened under the sting of his words, but replied with equal crispness.
"A new associate of ours, lord, one essential to our plan's success, has demanded this contact. May I make known to you Hugh Tindal, Lieutenant of the Terran Navy, science and enginery officer of the FSS Sword. Tindal, His Royal Highness Jaun Akhera, the Imperial Heir, Prince of Alphor and Lord of the Cabiri." She explained swiftly about the decision that had been made to involve Tindal in the plot.
Jaun Akhera nodded when she finished. "Well," he said at last, "this does not displease me, and may prove to be better thought of than you knew. Certainly it is safer to transmit by way of your ship, Tindal... well met, then, and how may I help you further?"
Tindal laughed shortly. "Nice of you to offer, Highness. If I am to involve myself, as I seem to have done, in this, ah, enterprise, I'd like some sort of assurances that, afterwards, I shall receive appropriate consideration for my services. I'm giving up a lot to throw in with you on this."
"That is understood. Well, you have our royal word, if that means anything to you. More concrete assurances must wait upon our meeting. What more?"
"You will be able to pull this off, militarily speaking? The risks--"
Jaun Akhera's patience snapped. "If you are so unsure of me--"
"Not at all," said Tindal with an equal sharpness. "But cast what Your Highness is pleased to call your mind back about three years, to the last time some misguided royal idiot raised a hand against Keltia."
"The point being?"
"The point being that anyone who messes with the Kelts--and more particularly with Aeron, or with anyone Aeron is fond of--might get what Bellator got, and maybe worse. Are you prepared for the possibility, at least, that history could repeat itself?"
In spite of his annoyance, Jaun Akhera grinned. "If you are as talented in matters technological as you are rude to princes, Tindal, your future with the Imperium is well assured... But, to answer your question, all this had been factored into our plans, and you will have nothing to worry about on that account. Do you stand with us, then?"
Tindal nodded. "Oh yes."
"Good. Then let me not hear from you again--any of you--until such time as you have the word of invasion to give me." The picture blurred to interstellar static, and Tindal rocked back onto his heels and expelled a long breath.
"Well then?" demanded Arianeira. "Was it worth such a risk, merely for you to be able to insult him?"
"Worth it to me, absolutely." Tindal had begun to disconnect the equipment from the link-up to the Sword. "Anyway, I don't think he was all that insulted, and, as I said, I wouldn't have gone through with our plans without having spoken to him first. He's not what I expected."
"Not?" Arianeira's voice was sour.
"Not. But maybe I'm not what he expected either."
"Not hard," observed Kynon, "since the Prince of Alphor expected you not at all."
Tindal let that pass, and completed his work. Arianeira, after a glance at him, indicated that Kynon should take his leave. The Kymro seemed at first disinclined to obey this order, but he appeared to think better of it, and, bowing perfunctorily to them both, went out, closing the doors behind him.
Arianeira poured herself a cup of wine from the golden bowl kept by the fire, then reclined on her favorite longchair, lolling back luxuriously with a fur rug over her lap.
"May I stay?" asked Tindal uncertainly, after a long silence.
For answer she pulled a cushion out from behind her and tossed it to the floor beside her chair. After a moment, Tindal seated himself upon it, leaning his back against the carved gold frame of the chair; and neither said any more.
Arianeira sipped her wine and was content, though that seemed a poor word for the state of mind in which she now existed. All was well for her; this evening could have spelled utter disaster for her and Kynon and the plan they had made between them. But she had succeeded with Tindal, where Kynon had failed with Mikhailova; and Jaun Akhera had gone along with the allowing of a Terran into the plot. All was very well indeed; and as yet Kynon and Tindal had not the smallest idea, nor would they, of the true value Arianeira placed upon them, or the reward she intended to give them both in the end. And by the time they did learn, it would be far too late... She hid her smile behind the rim of the gold cup, and smoothed the fur of the lap rug.
But if she had bestirred herself to ken the true state of the Terran's mind, she would have been not only unpleasantly surprised, but alarmed also.
Hugh Tindal was very well aware that Arianeira was using him; and that was fine with him, for the moment. The love of mischief-making was with him almost a passion, and here was an unparalleled chance to make trouble on an interstellar scale. So of course it was acceptable that the Princess was making a cat's-paw of him; it suited his own plans exactly to be used so. And the longer she thought she was using him, the longer she would be ignorant of the fact that in truth he was using her. And by the time she became aware of that, he'd be safely beyond her reach...
Tindal smiled and reached out to pour a cup of wine for himself, then leaned his head back against the soft, dense furs.
*
Taught by Haruko, Aeron was learning the Terran style of dueling, with thin whippy sword and hilted dagger. Having learned of his interest in, and skill at, swordfighting, s
he had instructed him in the use of the glaive, the long-bladed Keltic laser sword, and now he was returning the favor.
Rohan and Slaine, passing the fencing hall in search of her, detoured at the sounds of combat and leaned over the gallery rail, looking down on the action with professional interest.
The two duelists below seemed to move in step, advance and retreat, dodge and weave, the click of their blades a constant counterpoint to their muffled footfalls. It ended in a flurry of blurred motion--lunge, parry, counterparry--and Aeron's laughing cry of triumph as she scored the final touch.
"You are too quick for me," complained Haruko, but he was laughing too. They had fought unmasked and unshielded, a mutual compliment to the accuracy of their swordsmanship, and their faces were flushed with exertion. "You pick up the style as a swordsman born," he added, mopping his brow with a towel.
"And you not only swordsman but teacher of swordsmen, which is to my mind much the harder feat." She saluted him with her weapons held crosswise above her head before laying them down. "It is a strange change from the glaive, the rhythms are so different. My brother Rohan must teach you the way of the claymore, he is my master there... But see who has been watching." She waved up at the two in the gallery; their heads disappeared, and a few moments later all four were together on the practice floor.
"Gwydion sends us with news you must hear, Ard-rian," said Rohan. "And Theo also--will you come?"
"We are all of a sweat from the bout. Come and tell us while we bathe."
Haruko, certain he had misheard her, followed the others to the pool-room that adjoined the fencing hall. No, he realized, blushing furiously, he had not misheard her... Aeron had stripped off her practice tunic and was now removing the skin-tight trews and low boots, talking all the while to her brother and her cousin. None of them seemed to think this the least bit unusual, and clearly they considered him enough one of them to find it as natural as they did.
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