The King's Peace (46 page)

"He is Emperor, he raised the purple banner, he could—" Duncan began, very stiffly.

I interrupted. "If the Emperor of Vinca had wished to do such a thing, maybe it would have been possible, even though you have no heirs and no people. But Urdo is not Emperor of Vinca, and not a tyrant who can do whatever he pleases." My mind went back to the moment on top of Foreth when Urdo had given his name and titles before the gods.

"He is High King of the Island of Tir Tanagiri by right of birth, by right of conquest, and by right of election of all principalities. His Peace is something we are all making."

The dance came to an end, and we bowed to each other very formally, then walked back towards the window where I had been sitting.

"You are right that it isn't Vincan times come again," Duncan said, looking out into the night.

"Have you told your mother so?"

"I think she knows," I said, as gently as I could. "She was calling herself the last of the Vincans this afternoon, accepting that. She knows this is a new age."

"I do not think I am the only person who will need reminding," said Duncan, looking very remote. "And if it is a new world indeed that you youngsters are building then you should have told those who thought they were fighting beside you to restore the world of our young days."

I knew well enough that it was nearly sixty years since the last Vincan legion had left Tir Tanagiri and that Duncan's young days had been spent in civil wars as well as fending off the Jarnsmen. I could hardly believe he had really hoped to be given his land back again just like that, when he had abandoned it, and had no heir, and after twenty-five years. I couldn't think of anything at all to say. Fortunately, Lew came up just then.

Duncan excused himself to go and help Veniva. Lew was beaming broadly. I suppose he did have a lot to be cheerful about. He was drinking from a smooth red Vincan cup, a particular treasure of my mother's. I hoped he would not break it. I glanced around for Emer, she was part of a group on the other side of the room that included Morien, Daldaf, and her Isarnagan lover.

"Must I go to Caer Tanaga to find my brother Urdo, or will he be coming here soon?"

Lew asked, after we had both dispensed with friendly greetings. Calling Urdo his brother seemed a bit much to me, for a wife's sister's husband he had never met.

"You must go to Caer Tanaga for the Feast of Peace," I said, and bowed a little stiffly.

"I think my lord Urdo will be sending out invitations by red-cloak as soon as he has the date
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arranged."

"Then does he ever come out here?" Lew looked curious. I expect he was wondering how much interference he'd have to deal with.

"Sometimes, when it is necessary. He came to help with the defenses after we had been raided by Jarnsmen ten years ago."

"That is a long time now," he said, stroking his long moustache. "Well, I was hoping you would do me the honor of dancing—" I wished I had not danced with Duncan because now it would be impossible for me to say I was too tired to dance. I felt sure he would trample on my feet. I hoped the food would be ready soon. Then Lew surprised me by continuing

"—with my nephew." I felt a great relief that I wouldn't have to dodge his feet, whoever his nephew might be, but as he led me across the room my heart sank. He was making for the group containing Emer. He was heading straight for Emer's lover, Fishface himself.

When he saw his uncle leading me towards him he closed his eyes for a moment, then he had the nerve to grin. Emer looked a little pale. Morien looked cautiously pleased.

"Sulien ap Gwien, this is my nephew—" Lew began.

"We've met," I said, before Lew could tell me his name. "And I always call him Fishface," We all laughed, though Morien was frowning a little, and Emer's laugh was brittle.

"Where did you—" Lew started, but Fishface took hold of my hand and dragged me off into the dance. I waved an apology at Lew, who said something to Emer, who touched her injured arm.

They both stood and watched us benignly. Morien, beside them, was now frowning deeply.

"So where did we meet, Praefecto?" Fishface hissed at me as soon as we were far enough away not to be heard. "I've never been in Tir Tanagiri before, and he knows it."

"Oh, earlier today," I said, quietly. "In the baths perhaps? In the stables? I meet so many people it's easy to forget."

"I don't suppose you've ever been to Oriel?" he asked, swinging me viciously.

I shook my head. "Never been off the island. Better make it the stables, I was there for a while earlier."

"Why couldn't you have just let him introduce me?" By the music he should have swung me again, instead he stepped closer, looking menacing.

"Because I take curses seriously, even if you don't," I said.

"I take that one quite sufficiently seriously to know it'll be my death. I just don't see how you're going to avoid discovering my name for the rest of your life. In fact I'm quite surprised you didn't rush off to discover it as soon as you could. I'm quite sure your eager young captain knew it all the time." Now he swung me, out of time, almost tripping me.

"Ap Trivan? Really?" I said, righting myself. Inability to dance was clearly a family failing. If I hadn't seen Emer dance perfectly well, and Elenn, too, I would have thought it an Isarnagan failing. I wondered whether Emlin did know. We hadn't had time to talk. I had no option but to keep Emer's relationship with her husband's nephew quiet. I would tell Urdo, of course.

"I would imagine so. He seemed quite well up on Isarnagan gossip." I could see Emer's scarred face over his shoulder. Lew, beside her, was smiling and tapping his foot to the drumbeat. Emer was only looking sadly at us. Someone would notice if she kept that up.

"Well, I'm not, and I don't care to be. And unless you want your uncle to wonder even more, then I'd smile if I were you; he's watching us, and you look as if you're going to your own funeral."

He laughed unexpectedly and quite charmingly. "Why, then I shall act the way people are supposed to when they are dancing and compliment your drape and your beautiful
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amber brooch. Is it Isarnagan work?"

It was the one that had come from the hoard. I shook my head. "It is old in my family,"

I said.

"I see. What a good thing Urdo has female war-leaders."

"Why?" I asked, cautiously.

"Why, that trick of dashing you off into the dance to get away from the questions would never have worked with a man."

I laughed. "It has been known for men to dance together in the alae, but it is not a usual thing. It would never have worked with ap Thurrig either."

"No indeed, from what I have heard. Indeed my kin and I are lucky it was you we met on this adventure."

We backed and advanced, as we came together again he spoke quietly. "You do realize what my uncle's plotting?" I shook my head. "He suggested to me that it would be a very good thing if I made your brother an offer for you. I suspect he might have suggested the same to your brother, for he was telling me all your faults most apologetically." He laughed again, with a little bitterness. "Oh dear, your face could curdle milk. I am supposed to be a most eligible husband, and most people consider me quite sufficiently handsome."

"They must never have seen a mouth-old salmon," I said.

"Why, how your thoughts do run on fish," he said, very sweetly. "Perhaps we ought to marry at that. No, don't pull your hand away, we're dancing, it will look terrible." He squeezed my fingers so tightly that I would have had to strike him to get free. I had not in any case meant to jerk away. He continued talking very lightly. "I mean it would stop everyone trying to marry both of us off. And as you already know my terrible secret, and I know yours, we needn't have anything to do with each other. You are far better than the last girl Black Darag suggested for me, who was noble and very wealthy but had a laugh like a crow.

And even if you don't like my face you must have a terrible time finding dancing partners your own height."

"What terrible secrets of mine has my brother been telling you?" I asked, as calmly as I could, trying to ignore the frivolity.

"Now it's I who should tell you to smile for my uncle," he said, smiling himself as if I had made a joke. "Why only about your relationship with the High King, which is not quite news, even in distant Tir Isarnagiri."

I was surprised how angry it made me. I was quite used to the armigers joking about this supposed relationship, and I had given up doing more than groaning when it was mentioned. I supposed Morien must have picked it up from Glyn's teasing when I was at Derwen a long time ago. But I was horrified to see that it had spread so far. "You listen to much too much gossip," I said, through my teeth. "I do not know why it should please people to tell lies about me, but you are quite mistaken there."

He raised his eyebrows and looked surprised. "I somehow suspected you'd turn me down, alas," he said, and grinned audaciously at me. "Though we'd not be so badly suited as all that. It would cement the alliance nicely, and I've always liked tall women who don't want me. There are so many who do it gets tedious."

There weren't any words rude enough in Tanagan, so I said some in Jarnish, including one or two I wasn't quite sure of the meaning of which Alfwm had used the time Masarn's Whitefoot stepped on his toe. I kept on smiling as best I could as I said them. His own smile never faltered, though behind us Garian was blinking a little.

"Yes, yes," he said at last quietly, as the music came near the end. "If it were a choice between me and a dead leprous female cod you would still indulge your preference for fish, and I can't
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blame you in the slightest. Indeed I was just being whimsical and reflecting upon irony, and I doubt very much my mother would approve of you either. We will consider the match canceled, though not the alliance between our kindreds. And you may ask your ap Trivan my name, whereupon your opinion of me will sink even lower, if such a thing is possible."

He released my hand, bowed, and left me. I bowed back, automatically, then I blinked after him.

I wouldn't want him beside me in battle. For all his quickness one would never be able to count on him being where he was needed. As luck would have it I caught sight of Emlin's cropped head straight away and went over to him.

"Do you know who he is?" I asked, quietly.

"Do you want to dance?" he asked.

"No, I don't, I don't care if I never dance again, and you must be tired, too. Sit down over here with me and tell me quietly what you know about that fish-faced Isarnagan before I put my foot in it." We went and sat in the window. I picked up the cup I had left there earlier. Daldaf, with a flagon in his hand, looked as if he might come up to us. I glared at him, and he retreated.

"He's Conal ap Amagien ap Ross, called Conal the Victor," Emlin said, very quietly.

I raised an eyebrow. "I've never heard of him. He's Lew's nephew then?"

"Yes. His father Amagien the Poet is Lew's brother. Conal's mother is Black Darag's mother's sister."

He sounded like Veniva going on endlessly about dynastic marriages. I could never find it interesting unless I knew the people. "So he fought for Oriel against Connat in their last big war?" I asked. "Come on, Emlin, what are you leaving out here?"

"He fought for Oriel, yes. He's the person who started the war up again. He's Conal the Victor; didn't you hear that he killed Maga of Connat last year?"

I sat quite still, far more shocked than I had thought I would be by whatever his secret was. He had killed her mother, and she—I looked over at Emer, who was talking to Lew and Monen looking quite composed— she was wearing a dark red overdress, wool, not linen, but she did not look too warm. Conal Fishface was dancing with Kerys. I could only see his back, but he was probably saying something outrageous because she was laughing.

I looked back at Emer. Now I understood why they couldn't be together. Not some long-ago bloodfeud, her own mother. I wondered suddenly if he had made her some reparation. Even if she had accepted it the rest of her family would not.

"A good thing he was never there at all," I said. "What have we done?" "I think we have done more for Urdo's Peace than we would if we'd fought," said Emlin, yawning and stretching. "I shall have to tell Urdo," I said.

"Of course," said Emlin. "Will you go to him now at Caer Tanaga?" "No," I said. I had decided already what my first step was to be. "I will go to Caer Gloran, where there might be news, and which is on the way north. If there are forces in Wenlad and in Demedia I should be heading that way. If there's no message then I might go east and south to Caer Tanaga to find Urdo and my own ala. It's not much longer to go that way than to go by Magor and the ferry across the Havren." "Will you take this ala?" he asked.

I looked at him, considering. "No. I don't trust the Isarnagans quite that far. I'll take a couple of pennons—no. I'll take volunteers, a couple of pennons' worth. You ask them, tonight, and before I sleep we must talk over who is going and pick out who will be the decurios and the sequifers. Also tell Nodol Boar-Beard to get supplies sorted out for that many, so we will be ready to leave in the morning."

"At dawn?" asked Emlin, looking weary.

"No, by late morning. We're all tired, and there's no point in pushing people or horses past the best we can do." Emlin raised his chin and looked pleased. What I said was right, but also I
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wanted to go at sunrise to Darien's grave with Ulf s weapons. "You have to stay here. But I think I must put Morien in charge of the ala. There isn't time for what Urdo wanted: I can't take him back with me."

"You're absolutely right," Emlin said, decisively. "Have you told him?" "No," I hesitated, fidgeting with the folds of my drape. I had been putting it off. "I wanted to check with you. You didn't seem sure about him."