“I like horses, too,” I said. “Do you want to work with horses when you grow up?”
He shook his head slowly, looking at me consideringly. Now his expression was nothing like my brother at all. “Oh no. I want to be an armiger and ride for the High King. Why did you never come before?”
My tongue stuck in my throat. “You know who I am?” I asked, idiotically.
“You are wearing a praefecto’s cloak, gold oak leaves. The only women who are praefectos are Marchel ap Thurrig and Sulien ap Gwien, and I know Marchel. She comes here. So you must be Sulien ap Gwien. I am called Suliensson, and so you are my mother.” He bowed. I knew I ought to embrace him, but somehow the way he held himself didn’t at all invite it. He was very self-possessed, not at all the way I had been when I was a child, nor my brother either. I suppose it was growing up with the monks.
“Yes,” I said, and remained still, though I wanted to move towards him. Starlight nickered softly and another horse answered her. “And I didn’t come because I wasn’t sure Father Gerthmol would let me in. We only came now because Urdo was wounded. I—”
“Is he going to be all right?” The concern was immediate, real and personal. He looked just as my brother Darien had looked when we fished Morien out of the river the time we tried to teach him to swim.
“Yes. He’s lost blood, but he’ll be well again soon.”
“Oh, thanks be to the White God ever merciful,” he said, entirely sincerely, with a real relief in his voice. It seemed odd to hear him pray to the White God, but if I had not wanted him to grow up in that worship I shouldn’t have left him here.
“You know the High King then?” I asked, curious.
“Oh yes.” Darien rocked on his feet. “He always comes to see me when he comes here. He brings me things. He brought me a toy sword, but I have outgrown it. He brought me some weights for practicing, and I have practiced and practiced, shall I show you?” He looked ready to run off and find them. I shook my head.
“I haven’t brought you anything,” I said. “I didn’t know I was coming.”
“That’s all right,” he said. “There’s nothing I want.” I knew I should have brought something. I should have come before, no matter how much Father Gerthmol disapproved. This boy was a stranger to me. “Did you really summon a demon?” he asked, leaning forward and looking interested.
“No,” I said. “It was Morwen of Angas who did any summoning that was done. She tried to kill me, and then told lies.”
“That’s what Sister Arvlid told me,” he said. “I knew she was right.” By the set of his shoulders as he said it I knew that he was used to fighting the other children about this. I wanted to cry.
“It’s all lies,” I said. “Arvlid was right.”
“Then—” he hesitated. “Then why don’t you like me?” he asked, and stuck his bottom lip out. I wanted to reach out to him, but something in the way he was standing said that he would run away if I moved closer. It was hard to know what to say. I squatted down on my heels so my head would be closer to his level.
“I do like you. I don’t know you, but I think I would like you if I did. It wasn’t anything you did wrong!” He looked at me, very unsure now. “There isn’t—I can’t—” He raised an eyebrow. He must have learned that from Urdo. “I’m a praefecto, I don’t really have a home I can take you to. If you don’t like it here, I could send you to my parents in Derwen, or my sister’s house at Magor, though the Mother alone knows what they’d say.”
“I don’t mind it here.” He leaned back on the ropes that were the back of Starlight’s stall. “I’ve never been anywhere else. The High King says it’s one of the best places to grow up in Tir Tanagiri.”
I was surprised into a laugh. “He never grew up anywhere else either,” I said. “It’s something people only get one try at doing.”
“Will you come and see me again?” he asked.
I wanted to promise I would, but if I broke a promise now, it would ruin everything. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to come back soon. I don’t know where I’m going to be or what’s going to be happening. I’ll come when I can. You’re nine. You can’t be an armiger until you’re sixteen at the youngest. That’s seven years. Come to me in Caer Tanaga then. If I’m not there, go to ap Gavan and tell her who you are and wait for me, I get there now and then. I will give you a place in my ala.” He bowed again.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Darien—” I said. He started and drew in his breath. He had not given me his name. He seemed surprised I knew it. “There’s no excuse for why I didn’t come. I was afraid of Father Gerthmol’s disapproval, and I was busy, and time went on and you were getting to be a person and I didn’t know. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about you. I wish I had brought you something. Is there anything you’d like me to send you?”
“There’s nothing I want,” he said, but I caught the flash of his eyes towards Starlight. I couldn’t give her to him, she was Urdo’s gift. There was Glimmer, the filly she bore in the first year of the War. Since then I had ridden her, despite ap Cathvan’s advice to ride lesser horses and have her bred.
“If I left Starlight here,” I said, “and you had her bred to a good stallion, one ap Cathvan chooses when he comes here in season, then she would give you a foal you could train to be ready to ride when you were ready to be an armiger.” For an instant he looked thrilled, and as if he might unbend towards me. “And,” I added, “then I’d have to come back next year to collect Starlight.” His face closed up again, and I realized what I had said, that I would promise to come for the horse but not for him.
“Thank you, sir,” he said, cold and formal. “That would be extremely kind of you. I would take good care of her.” He looked at Starlight, and his face changed again. He loved my horse. I had made a bad beginning. I should have come before. I drew breath to speak, to try to set it right, and there was a great hammering on the stable door. We froze. One of the monks came down and opened it. There was a rider outside, a red-cloak, one of the Garah’s messengers.
“Urgent news from Caer Tanaga for the High King,” he said. “Do you know where he is?” I recognized his voice, it was Senach Red-Eye, who had been in my pennon once.
“I am here,” I said, straightening up, raising a hand to Darien to signal him to wait. “The High King is wounded. Is the news worth disturbing him?” Darien shrank back against Starlight, who huffed at him gently. The monk stepped aside and let Senach in. He dismounted and stood dripping on the floor. He handed me a dry scroll from his leather bag. It was sealed with Elenn’s seal and addressed to Urdo.
“From the Queen?” I asked. I wondered if she was with child at last. “Do you know the news? Is it personal?” All but the most personal and dangerous news would be entrusted to the messenger as well as to the scroll, in case some mischance happened. Messengers were especially chosen from loyal and discreet people. Most of them were armigers who had been wounded, like Senach, whose single eye no longer sufficed for him to ride to war.
“It is no good news,” Senach said, taking off his wet cloak and nodding to the monk who led away his horse.
“Tell me.” The monk was out of earshot if he spoke quietly. Senach looked at Darien inquiringly.
“I will see you tomorrow, sir,” Darien said, bowed, and ran out past me through the stables into the courtyard. I bit my lip and turned back to Senach.
“What?” I snapped.
“Some assassin of Black Darag’s has killed Maga, the Queen’s mother, the king of Connat in Tir Isarnagiri. It is war there. Allel has sent asking our help.”
“They want their troops back?” I stepped back, horrified. They ate a lot and wouldn’t do any work but fighting and we had to wait around for them, but the Isarnagan infantry was a great asset in any big battle.
“They want more than that. They want our help in their war.” I felt my teeth grind together.
“I think this is important enough to take to Urdo, even if he’s asleep,” I
said, and sighed. There was no sign of Darien as I took Senach and the unopened scroll up to Urdo’s room in the guesthouse.
20
It is very meet, right, and our bounden duty, that we should at all times and in all places, give thanks into thee, O Lord, Holy Father Almighty, who walked among us as a man in Sinea, died for us, and ascended into Heaven in renewed and restored strength.
Lo, children and the fruit of the womb are a heritage and gift that cometh of the Lord. Like as the arrows in the hand of the giant even so are young children. Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them, they shall not be ashamed when they speak with their enemies in the gate.
O God, the strength of all of them that put their trust in thee, mercifully accept our prayers. Through the weakness of our mortal nature we can do no good thing without thee, grant us the help of thy grace, that we may please thee both in will and deed and bring forth children to praise and please thee.
Therefore, with Angels and Archangels and with all creatures living and dead, visible and invisible, yea with all the glorious company of Heaven, we laud and magnify thy glorious name, evermore praising thee and saying, Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of Hosts, Heaven and Earth are full of thy glory, Glory be I to thee, O Lord most High.
—Prayer for Fruitfulness as offered at Thansethan,
early translation
I went to the dawn service in the chapel. I caught the edges of some puzzled looks from Elidir and from many of my armigers. Masarn was there giving thanks that his wife had been safely delivered of another son. At least Senach had brought good news for someone. I sat quietly unmoved through the chanting and readings and praise. I had not come for the White God, but to see Darien. I could not distinguish him among the group of robed children, but I thought I could catch him as they came out. I wanted to talk to him. The service was calm and peaceful, even if it still made me think that this was no way for respectable people to address the gods. There was a prayer for Urdo’s health which named him as “our Earthly protector.” When the children filed out Darien was not among them. My heart sank. Was he avoiding me? I caught up with Masarn as we came into the courtyard.
“I’m going to see Urdo. I think we’ll stay here today, but we’ll likely need to send out messages. Tell the other pennon commanders rest and gentle practice, be aware orders might be sudden.” Masarn grinned.
“For a change? Is there any chance we might head down to Caer Tanaga, do you think? It would mean a lot to my wife if I got there to see the baby before he has teeth.”
I shrugged. “That’ll be the High King’s decision.” I suddenly felt terribly envious of Masarn’s uncomplicated family life. Yet the War took us all away from our families. It had been at least partly my choice not to come here before. I sighed, patted Masarn’s shoulder. “It might not be today, but I don’t doubt we’ll get there soon. If I send anyone there, it’ll be you. I’m going up to see Urdo. I’ll let you know.” After I’d spoken to Urdo I would seek out Arvlid and ask her how best to approach Darien.
I went up the steps of the guesthouse. Urdo had one of the little narrow cells to himself. Haleth stood on guard at the end of the corridor. She passed me through with the hand wave that meant all was well. As I walked towards his room I heard Urdo speaking.
“I’ll have my work cut out to get all the kings to go along with it.” I thought he must be talking to Raul, but to my amazement I heard Darien’s voice answer.
“But you’re the High King. Can’t you just say you’ll chop their heads off if they don’t do what you want?” Urdo chuckled, and I froze where I was for a moment.
“If I chopped off Father Gerthmol’s head, do you think the rest of the monks would do what I wanted after? Being High King doesn’t mean threatening people to get them to do what you want all the time, or else I’d soon have an empty country and a large pile of heads.” Darien laughed, too.
“Then maybe you could take them out hunting and ask them to let you have all the alae while they’re in a good mood?”
“Now that’s a much better idea.” I couldn’t believe how happy and relaxed they both sounded. I wanted to be there. I moved forward and drew back the curtain. Darien was sitting on the corner of Urdo’s bed. Just for a moment I saw them looking naturally at each other, then they both looked up at me. Urdo raised an eyebrow, and Darien slid to the floor and stood ramrod-straight.
“Good morning, sir,” he said.
This time I was determind to do it right. I bent and embraced him as family. He stood still and stiff and endured it until I stopped. I stepped back.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” I said, awkwardly, shifting on my feet.
“Darien tells me you’re leaving Starlight here to foal?” Urdo said, looking up at me shrewdly.
“Yes,” I said. “It’s time she had another foal, and he will need a horse.” I found it very difficult to look at Darien in the morning light. He looked too like and too unlike my brother, and himself.
“A good thought,” said Urdo, gently. “Ten is a good age to begin to train a foal, and you’ll be ten by the time you start, won’t you, Darien?”
“Yes, my lord,” said Darien. He looked as if he thought he’d be put on triple duties if he moved out of line. “May I go, my lord? It’s almost time for language practice.” He looked like a colt ready to bolt. Urdo raised his chin, and he took a step towards the door. To get out he would have to pass me. He looked somewhere over my shoulder. “Good morning, sir,” he said, again. I moved to let him go. I felt a burning in my eyes.
“Well,” said Urdo, when he had gone.
“Well he likes you,” I blurted. Urdo half laughed.
“He likes me, and he likes Starlight, and if you don’t push I think he would like to like you. He was asking me about you and I told him you were a most valued praefecto. Let him come to it in his own time. You can’t expect to make up nine years in a day. If you keep coming to see him, he will come to know you.”
“He frightens me,” I said, and scuffed my feet like a child myself. “I don’t know how to feel like a mother to him. I just left him here.”
“If the gods give us time, the fear will wear off,” Urdo said. “I am perhaps not the best person to ask about this.” I blushed. I had forgotten for the moment that his mother had left him here, too. “But Rowanna and I have come to a friendship, if not exactly the sort of relationship most men seem to have with their mothers. I think growing up here was an advantage to me, and may well be to Darien. And I was four when she left me here, old enough to know but not really to understand. Darien has never known anything else.”
“He said you said it was a good place to grow up,” I admitted.
“It was. And he will come to know you. He is your son, after all.” I looked up sharply. There was some envy in the king’s voice.
“I’m sure you will, the Queen will, you’ll get your own son soon,” I stammered. Urdo shrugged, and grimaced as if it pulled at his wound.
“That’s with the Mother,” he said. “And this last few years hasn’t been a good time for it. I’d not have been able to give a child the attention they need either. When the War is over there will be time for these things. And for you and Darien to make friends, too.”
I bit my lip hard to stop myself crying. Tears of self-pity are the worst sort of tears, hateful to the gods. I swallowed, but I could not stop my voice shaking a little. “He thought I didn’t like him.”
“Then you’ll just have to show him that you do,” Urdo said, calmly. “And don’t try to rush things. Leaving him Starlight is a really good idea, even if it is going to leave you a horse down. Is Glimmer ready to ride?”
“Next year,” I said, getting control of my voice.
“Ah, next year,” said Urdo, in a contemplative tone. “Everything depends on what we can do next year. I shall have to send the Isarnagans back, and I ought to send a pennon or two back with them. It will be hard to go on as we have been without them. But we don’t want to go on as w
e have been, of course. I must break the Jarnish kings who oppose my rule, or who support Sweyn’s, and to do that I must either fall on their kingdoms one by one or defeat all of them together in the field.”
Urdo sighed. “To the distress of careful strategic principles, the alae cannot hold ground and take it only poorly, which means it must be all of them together. So I must give them a reason to do that.”
“The kings won’t like you getting all the alae together in one place,” I said.
“No. They won’t like it at all. I’m going to call them all to Caer Tanaga this autumn and talk to them about it, tell them this is our chance to make a real change and stop the War dragging on and on. They’re mostly tired of it.”
“Even so, they won’t like being completely stripped of troops.” I was picturing Duke Galba’s reaction. “However loyal they are, they care about their homes and their farmers first. Everyone does.”
“I won’t strip anywhere completely. But they might be down to a pennon instead of an ala. Enough to keep off the raiders. But we can do it, I think. We’ve never trained with more than three alae together, but I think we could manage seven. Seven alae. Thirteen hundred armigers! Can you imagine? We could break anything they can put against us with that.”
“If we can get the Jarns to stand and fight,” I said quietly. It was always the problem when we had enough force. Sweyn was no fool and would not come out to fight unless he saw some solid chance of victory.
“If we can, yes. Which means giving them a reason to think they can win.” Urdo was smiling now.
“Where?” I asked, but as soon as I had said it I knew. If we had to break all the Jarns there was only one place. “Tevin.”
“Tevin. Yes. Exactly.” He grinned. “Send Raul in. We’ll send out some messages today. Tomorrow I should be well enough to ride, and we’ll head back to Caer Tanaga.”
I sent Raul in to him and spent an hour talking to Arvlid. She had nothing but good to say of how Darien progressed at his studies. She had matured into a plump woman, though I couldn’t think how, on the food in Thansethan. It was hard to imagine her now running ten miles to warn the monks. I soon fell back into my friendship with her, but somehow I could not explain to her about Darien. She knew him too much better than I did. When we left Thansethan he bade me farewell formally, and embraced me formally.