The King's Name

  “You need a key-keeper,” Veniva said crisply. “Which is more like a quartermaster for your fortress than a tribuno. And you are getting one, getting a wife indeed, who will also be here tomorrow if the wind stays good for boats coming up the Tamer.”

  “Tomorrow?” Darien said blankly. “Even if Angas had sent to Demedia the moment we agreed, the message could scarcely be at Dun Idyn yet, let alone the girl returned.”

  “If she had been in Dun Idyn, you would be right,” Veniva said. “But she was in Cennet with the grandmother she is named for, and you will have the two Ninians here tomorrow, by the news I had at Caer Segant. So you can be crowned and married, and begetting great-grandchildren for me and heirs for the kingdom.”

  “She has been key-keeper of Dun Idyn for Angas, but she will have to learn the ways of Caer Tanaga,” Darien said, sensibly ignoring the last comment.

  “She is only just eighteen,” Veniva said. “Don’t count on her being good at it straightaway. All the same, I think of the available princesses she was a good choice, even considering she is your cousin.”

  “Yes,” Darien said. “I was thinking mostly about settling the north.”

  Veniva began to go into a long genealogical digression. I yawned, and she interrupted herself immediately. “You should be in bed, Sulien.”

  “I think I will go to the baths,” I said, deciding as I spoke. “I am stiff and tired and dirty from being on the boat. Afterward I will sleep. Where am I sleeping, do you know? In barracks?”

  “You should be here in the citadel,” Veniva said.

  “I think Govien has already taken your things to the barracks,” Darien said. I embraced them both and left them.

  The baths were deserted. There were a few candles lit but no attendants. The water was pleasingly hot, and there was a whole rack of dry towels. I looked into the weapon room. It was empty and there was nobody there. I took the spear into the baths and left it on top of my clothes and armor, plainly in my sight, and only an arm’s length from the pool. I did not want to take risks with it, even for the marvel of hot water.

  I scrubbed myself all over with soap, rinsed, then got down into the water to soak my aches away. I did not swim, just lay back in the running water with half an eye on my spear. I felt my aches melting away. When I heard someone coming I tensed immediately. I was standing up in the water with my hand on my spear when Emer came in. She snorted.

  “You Vincans. You really don’t seem to notice that you don’t have a stitch on, as long as you have your weapon ready.”

  I laughed, and lay back again. “The weapon is the important bit. Come on in.”

  She took off her clothes and slipped into the water. “This is truly one of the great blessings of civilization,” she said as she relaxed into the warmth.

  “You weren’t wounded at Agned,” I noted. She had the old scar on her face, the scars on her foot from the wound she had taken when Conal had been killed, and nothing else apart from two or three pale seams on her arms and legs, also clearly very old, and the dark lines of childbearing on her stomach.

  “I’m the only one of my people who wasn’t,” she said. “I could feel bad about it, five hundred people coming to war so I could die, and here I am, alive and untouched while half of them are dead and the other half wounded.”

  “Do you really think anyone needs to go out of their way to make Isarnagans fight?” I asked.

  She laughed. “You have a point,” she admitted. “They wouldn’t have come if they didn’t want to.”

  “And you fought in a good cause, whatever your personal reasons were for fighting,” I said.

  She ducked down under the water for a moment and then came up again. “The trouble is that it doesn’t make any difference to how I feel,” she said.

  “Do you really think that you’re the only person who has lost someone?” I asked.

  “It isn’t the same,” she said. “I met Conal when we were both eight years old. There had never been anyone else.”

  If you didn’t count her husband and daughter, of course. “I’ve been mourning Garah this evening,” I said. “She came away with me when she was fifteen years old and I was seventeen. She lived her own life and died her own death, and they were both good ones. Without me she might have stayed in Derwen and been quiet, and that might have been good as well, who can tell? She has been making my life better for twenty years, twenty years of friendship. And the same with Masarn, and ap Erbin, and—” I paused a little. “And Urdo. You miss him, yes, of course you do, you will never forget him, but you can go on and live your life.”

  “You are speaking of my husband,” Elenn said. I jumped. She was standing against the back wall of the room, next to the candle sconce by the door to the changing rooms. I had not heard her coming. She was wearing the same stained shift and her face looked ravaged.

  “I was speaking of my friend,” I said. I wished the words back as soon as I had impulsively uttered them. I knew Elenn didn’t understand friendship between men and women. As smoothly as I could, I brought my feet under me so that I could reach my spear immediately if I needed it. It seemed ridiculous to think I would have to defend myself against Elenn. I was more afraid she might grab the spear and hurt herself with it by mistake than that she might hurt me.

  “My husband,” she said again, sounding both bereft and angry.

  “Come into the water, Elenn,” Emer said.

  “With two women who hate me and mean me harm? I think not.” She sounded imperious.

  “Morthu has cast a bewitchment on you,” I said. “He has been lying to you. We don’t hate you. I certainly don’t.”

  “I don’t either, sister,” Emer said.

  “Everyone has been lying to me,” she said. “Why did Ulf tell me Urdo was near death, when he is dead already?”

  “Death has two sides to be near,” I said. Emer choked back a horrified laugh. “And Ulf didn’t know. Near death is what we have been saying, because although he is dead he has been talking.”

  “He talked to me,” Elenn said, shifting uneasily and most uncharacteristically. “He said he had not talked to you.”

  “Not talked, no, not since he died,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “He has spoken to other people when I was there.”

  “I asked him if Darien was his son,” Elenn said. “Morthu told me he was not, that he was the product of your incest with your brother.”

  “He told Angas that as well,” I said. “I really don’t know how people can think of these things. It’s so far-fetched that I didn’t think anyone could believe that one.”

  “Do you know what Urdo answered me, about Darien?” she asked.

  “No, I don’t know,” I said, honestly. Darien was Urdo’s son in every important sense except that of blood. I spared a thought for poor Ulf, lying cold, waiting for burial. The part he had had in Darien seemed to me the least important, over in minutes, bound to flesh only by Gangrader’s will.

  “He said ‘he is now,’ ” she said. “Even Urdo twists his words so that I don’t know what they mean. ‘He is now.’ ‘No mortal woman else.’ What can I make of that? Morthu took my will, yes, but how can I trust anyone when I cannot tell truth from lies?”

  I was thinking how to answer when Emer spoke. “Do you remember when we were children?” she asked, her voice soothing in its cadences. “Do you remember how Maga would command and organize the three of us, and Allel would always be ready with his arms open if we were hurt? Maga would scoff and call him weak and foolish, and he would say ‘Yes, my dear, you see right through me, I am weak and foolish and you have caught me with a pocket full of plums I have brought for the children.’ Maga would make promises and twist them, but you know you could always trust Allel to do what he said, though what he said would never be as marvelous. And when you were nine years old and I was eight and the fosterlings were come from Oriel, Darag pushed you out of a tree and you had a great cut on your knee. There was a scab on it, and Maga saw it one day w
hen it was nearly healed, and she said you should pull it off because it was hanging loose. And you asked if it would hurt, and Maga said no, it wouldn’t. But Allel interrupted and said that yes, it would hurt a little now, but it would be a good little pain to make your knee better.”

  “I could trust my father,” Elenn said, as if discovering something fine and precious. “He is far away in Connat.” Her face had relaxed a little from the terrible twisted mask it had been when she had first come in. “But I can go home if I want. I can do anything now. I am queen no longer.”

  “I have sometimes left out parts of the truth when speaking to you,” Emer said. “But I have never lied to you. I told you the truth about Conal when you asked. You know I don’t hate you.”

  I crouched still in the warm moving water and tried to be inconspicuous. This was best left to Emer. I wished I had gone straight to bed and never been here at all.

  “I don’t know,” Elenn said. “You hated Maga, and she didn’t know. You were glad she was dead. You embraced her killer.”

  “It wasn’t like that,” Emer said. “I loved Conal for being Conal. You know I always loved him. I just didn’t care that he had killed Maga.”

  “How could you betray the family honor like that?” Elenn asked. “How could you love a man who killed your mother?”

  “If we are speaking truth here, then I should say that if not for propriety I would have cheered and given him the hero’s portion for killing my mother,” Emer said defiantly. “Yes, I hated her. She used us, you and me, and she was even more cruel to poor Mingor, forcing him to be what she wanted and never what he wanted.”

  “You and Min did not know how to deal with her,” Elenn said. “I loved her. She never did me any harm. She taught me a lot about how to deal with men and how to run a court which has been very useful. She fought you because you fought against her.”

  “Yes, and even though you were her favorite, you shut everything away inside where she couldn’t get at it, do you think I don’t know that?” Emer said. “I saw that. I didn’t want a shell like yours. By the Raven, Elenn, she wed you to five men who promised to kill Darag, one after the other. How can you say she didn’t do you any harm? The shell itself is harm, however useful it may have been. It’s a defense, yes, wonderful, but how can anyone get close to you? It’s cracking now, but the last time before tonight when I saw a human expression on your face was when ap Dair came back and said that Urdo wanted to marry you and you knew you would be getting away from her.”

  “I was eighteen years old,” Elenn said. “Any girl of that age is glad to be married, and I was to be a High Queen. And there were not five. I was betrothed to Ferdia, but Darag killed him before I could marry him.”

  “He was too honorable to live,” Emer said.

  “Yes,” Elenn said. Her face was back to normal, as far as I could tell in the candlelight. I relaxed a little. “I could have trusted Ferdia, if he had lived,” she said. She put her hand up to her chest, but it fell away empty. I looked at Emer, and she gestured to me to speak.

  “Where is your pebble, Elenn?” I asked quietly.

  “Morthu made me—” she said, and stopped. “I’ll get another one. I’ll go to Thansethan and get another one. I can trust Father Gerthmol. I can trust them at Thansethan.” She stopped again, and looked down at me. “I love Darien, you know,” she said. “I don’t blame him for anything you did.”

  “I’m glad you love him,” I said calmly. “He loves you, too. He was very distressed when Garah told us what had happened to you. He knew straightaway that Morthu had bewitched you.”

  “I always thought he was Urdo’s son,” she said.

  “You know, when it comes to believing Morthu’s lies, I think he’s contradicted himself there,” Emer said. “If Darien isn’t Urdo’s son, then Sulien isn’t Urdo’s leman. The two things can’t both be true.”

  Elenn thought about this for a moment, and then smiled. I suddenly saw what Emer meant about her shell cracking. Every other smile I had seen on her face was suddenly revealed as controlled and deliberate, compared to this one which seemed as if it could crack her face. I wished Urdo could have seen it. She took three steps forward and, still in her shift, jumped into the water, between me and Emer, sending splashes right across the room. She looked the least beautiful I had ever seen her, and the most human. “The truth comes clear at last,” she said, and embraced Emer. Then, after a little hesitation, she embraced me. I embraced her back. Oh well, I thought, feeling old, it is the truth now.

  — 26 —

  As for sorcery, any that are convicted of it shall suffer death. And any who teach sorcery or offer to teach sorcery to another, or any oracle-craft, shall suffer death, that the knowledge of it may pass away entirely.

  —Vincan Law

  When we gathered in the central courtyard for the coronation and trial the next morning, Elenn was dressed in green and gold, and her face was as beautiful and unreadable as ever. Her midnight black hair was brushed and shining in the sunshine but left to fall loose on her shoulders. Seeing this, I took off my helmet and shook out my own hair. Alswith, waiting beside me, with the other kings, looked at me curiously.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I am letting my hair loose for mourning,” I said.

  “Don’t you usually cut it?” she asked, frowning a little.

  “That is the Vincan way,” I said. “We cut our hair short and cast it on the pyre, and the time it takes to regrow marks the time of mourning. After Foreth, Galba’s whole ala cut their hair. I have always cut mine before, but there hasn’t been time. Seeing Elenn like that, it seemed like the right thing to do it the Tanagan way now.”

  “Do you think I should let mine loose?” she asked. Behind her head, which was wrapped in a grey scarf, I saw Veniva coming out into the courtyard, bringing the boys. Glividen intercepted her and started to ask her something. Gwien started jumping from foot to foot on the cobbles, then stopped and stood sword blade-straight at a word from his grandmother.

  “You did at Agned,” I said. “What is the Jarnish custom?”

  “Baring your head is usually a sign of surrender,” she said. “Women are supposed to surrender only to their husbands, that’s why all the veils and cloth. For mourning we wear dark colors.”

  “Nobody thought you were surrendering at Agned,” I said.

  “I meant it for defiance, as well as mourning,” she admitted. “I was surrendering to fate, to death that had come from nowhere to take ap Erbin like that. If he had been killed in the ordinary chance of battle I wouldn’t have been so angry and led the ala back like that.”

  “You destroyed the war machines,” I said. “I don’t think anyone saw it as surrender. For that matter, I’ve seen plenty of Jarnish farmers with bare heads.” Off on the other side I saw Thurrig and Amala engaged in a furious debate, with much arm waving. Amala seemed to be getting the best of it, but Thurrig was smiling.

  “They have surrendered to their masters,” she said, and shrugged. “It doesn’t make sense when you think about it, especially here where they needn’t have a master except the king. Most of the farmers in Nene are like that.” Elenn walked over to stand on the turf almost directly opposite me, next to Mother Teilo and Raul and a little knot of other priests of the White God. I looked for Emer, and saw her in the crowd, with Inis.

  “They’ll be so delighted to have you instead of Cinon that they won’t mind about you being a woman,” I said reassuringly. I hoped Flavien couldn’t hear. He was right at the other end of the space marked out for the kings, talking to Rowanna. The courtyard was a mixture of organized and disorganized bustle.

  Alswith bit her lip. “The Jarnish ones, I hope so,” she said. “It is the Tanagan ones who felt like Cinon and who are still alive that will be the problem. It’s going to be so hard. I miss ap Erbin every minute. He used to say he was getting old and fat and no fun anymore, and I would tease him, and now he’s dead. I can’t even take time to mour
n him properly because I have all this responsibility and work to do, and I won’t even be going home, but to Caer Rangor.”

  “It’s hard work being a king,” I agreed.

  “I feel like I shouldn’t be standing here, but lined up over there with the alae,” she said, gesturing.

  “Me, too,” I admitted. Govien had Galba’s ala under control. My ala, Urdo’s Own Ala, looked very understrength. They had lost yet another decurio yesterday. Darien would have to give a lot of attention to getting them back to the force that they had been. Elwith stood in the praefecto’s place, looking a little apprehensive, the way everyone is when they start. She kept straightening her oak-leaf cloak as if she couldn’t believe it really belonged to her.

  “And there are the children, too,” she said. “And all these people in Nene who don’t know me. Alfwin said I should rule for Harald, but Darien said I could rule in my own name, and Harald after me.”

  “I think you should let your hair loose,” I said. “You are standing here for Nene, and Nene is a mixed kingdom. You are Jarnish in blood but your son is of both people, and you mean to be king of both people.”

  She raised her hands and unwound the cloth and shook her hair free.

  Gorai came out of the doors, walking with his aunt Linwen and Bishop Dewin. He bowed to them, clearly making farewells. They walked across to stand by Raul. Gorai came on past Glividen, who seemed at last ready to let Veniva go. As he went past Luth’s ala, his uncle Aneirin ap Erbin hailed him, and they spoke for a few moments, before Aneirin clapped him on the back and let him come on.

  “It’s clear to see where that young man is going to get his advice,” Alswith said approvingly.

  “Do you like Aneirin?” I asked.

  “He’s far and away the best of the whole family, apart from my ap Erbin, of course,” she said. “There’s more to him than his songs, though they are very good songs.”

  Gorai came up to us then, and we bowed and made him welcome. I was very glad of his presence a moment later when Veniva brought my nephews up. He was only a year older than Galbian, and they found much to talk about together. I did not then guess that that was to be the beginning of a friendship and alliance in Council that would last until their deaths, and even beyond, since Galbian’s daughter Veniva married Gorai’s son Cledwin. Then I was only glad that they occupied each other. I noticed Glividen standing talking to Inis, waving his arms about.