The Rose Throne (30 page)

“Then he will destroy me as well,” said Issa fiercely. Nothing that she had believed in seemed to matter anymore, the prophecy, the betrothal with Edik, the treaty with Rurik. At this moment, even her feelings for Kellin seemed false, since they had to be hidden and kept secret. The only thing that was real and honest in the time she had spent in the palace was what Ailsbet had shown of herself. Issa felt that she owed the other princess for that.

“No!” said Kellin. “You must stay away from her. You must give every impression of disgust when she is mentioned in your presence. For my sake, if not for your own. And for Edik’s sake.”

She could not simply throw herself away, Issa realized with reflection. She still had a duty to her kingdom and her people. “Help me help her, then,” said Issa.

Kellin put a hand to her chin and lifted it. “You are right. We will not give up the fight.”

At that, Issa felt a new strength that had nothing to do with the neweyr.

“In the Throne Room,” said Kellin. “I shall speak first.”

Issa nodded. He was not trying to stop her. He simply thought he had the better chance.

They made their way back to the palace, then parted at the stables.

Issa went to her rooms and changed out of her riding clothes into one of her new court dresses, a dusky rose-colored velvet. Then she went to the Throne Room.

It was not as full as usual, but King Haikor was there, with Lady Pippa at his side, both still in riding clothes. What surprised Issa was that Prince Edik was standing before his father, head held high, his body rigid with grief and anger.

“I shall not listen to your defense of her,” said King Haikor. “And the fact that you say anything for her sake tells me only that my betrothed, Lady Pippa, has been right about you all along.”

Issa felt a sick twist in her stomach. She had never imagined that Edik would do anything but return to his own chambers after the hunt. But
here he was, fighting for his sister with no help.

“You are no more my son than she is my daughter. I should have seen it from the first. You do not look like me. You are not like me in any way.”

“If I am not like you, then I am glad of it,” said Edik.

No! Issa wanted to shout. She turned and saw Kellin, with her own despair reflected on his face. In thinking only of Ailsbet, they had both failed. They had believed that Edik was weak, and here he was, proving them wrong. He was thirteen years old, and he had not come into his full taweyr, but he was proving himself as brave as any man.

He knew the consequences. He knew that he could well die this day, this moment, at his father’s hand.

Haikor put up a hand and looked sharply at Lady Pippa.

Whatever she had tried to convince the king to do, Issa would never know. She could only guess.

Haikor closed his eyes and seemed to make a decision. “Edik of Rurik, stand and listen to my decree,” he said. “You are not my son. You are henceforth banished from the kingdom of Rurik for the rest of your born days. If ever you are seen here again, you will be brought to the Tower for execution.”

Issa groaned. Edik, banished? What would he do? Where would he go? Could she bring him to Weirland with her?

King Haikor continued, “You are to give up the title
prince of Rurik
. You may keep your own name, if you choose to. You must never refer to King Haikor as your father.” No mention of Princess Ailsbet as his sister.

“If you agree to these terms, you will be granted the sum of a thousand gold coins to ease your passage.”

A thousand gold coins? Edik could go anywhere he chose with that, even to Aristonne.

“You must give up your betrothal to Princess Marlissa of Weirland. She is no longer bound to you but free to marry another,” said King Haikor.

Issa was surprised for a moment, but then realized it was not that King Haikor was trying to spare her feelings. He just wanted to strip Edik of another part of his identity. And to make sure that Edik would not flee to Weirland and plot against him there.

“You will leave now and prepare yourself to flee the palace,” Haikor continued. “You may take your own clothing, but no jewels and no crown. Nothing belonging to your mother, nothing given to you by your father, no remembrance of your place as prince.”

Edik’s clothing was filthy, his hair matted, and his face was smeared with tears and dirt, but he held his head high.

“You may not speak to anyone except to answer ‘yes’ or ‘no’ while you yet remain on the soil of Rurik. You may not ask servants for aid. You may not elicit conversation or sympathy from your peers,” King Haikor added.

“I agree,” said Edik, as if he were impatient to have this over with.

“Then go now. You have until dawn.”

Edik brushed past Issa as if he did not recognize her. It seemed as though the part of not speaking to anyone would be no hardship to him.

In one day, the king had lost both his heirs. The only one he had remaining was the one in Lady Pippa’s belly.

She had no reason to be here now, Issa thought. Her betrothal was over. She was free again. She could marry Kellin. The prophecy could no longer be fulfilled. Why could they not have happiness, then? As long as they did not feel guilt over leaving Ailsbet behind.

“King Haikor, I must ask you regarding your daughter,” said Kellin when the Throne Room was quiet again.

Everyone stared at him.

King Haikor raised a hand. “I have neither son nor daughter,” he said sharply.

Kellin’s eyes met Issa’s for a moment. Then he turned back to Haikor.

“To execute a princess would set a bad precedent,” said Kellin in an even, reasonable tone. “My only concern is for Your Majesty, of course. But the crown you wear must be seen as inviolate, your blood superior to others. Even if she is no longer a princess, think of what ideas it might give.”

King Haikor thought a moment. “Are you suggesting that there might be a rebellion against me, Duke Kellin?” he asked, a note of danger in his voice.

“No, nothing of the kind. I would never—”

“Then there is no threat to me. I should think that executing a princess, as you call her, would be a good warning that no one is above my law.”

Kellin set his jaw. “I shall speak plainly, Your Majesty. If you banish Edik and execute Ailsbet, think of the succession of the crown. As of this moment, you have no legitimate heir.” He nodded to Lady Pippa.

“And even if the infant is born soon, it will not be fit to rule in your place for many years. If anything were to happen to you before then, the kingdom of
Rurik would descend into chaos. It would be very easy for Weirland or one of the kingdoms of the continent, even Aristonne, to sweep us into their power,” he continued.

The possibility of Weirland taking control of Rurik, or Aristonne, Haikor’s lifelong enemies, would surely be enough to make the king reconsider his decisions, thought Issa.

“I intend to live a long time yet. And there are other heirs, though not as closely related, perhaps,” said King Haikor. “You have had your head turned by the ekhono woman somehow, though I cannot think it is because of beauty, for she has none. But now that she has revealed herself, you must see it all truly. Whatever you felt for her was false. Who knows what she took from you or forced you to feel?”

“Then remember that she is a woman,” said Kellin at last. “A little mercy for her, Your Majesty?”

King Haikor said, “She will die. She is an affront to my name and my place. I shall not hear her name spoken in my presence again.”

There seemed nothing else Kellin could do. He took a breath and bowed deeply. “As you wish, Your Majesty.” He looked up and added quietly, “May I ask when she will die?”

“When I find an axe sharp enough and a man able
to wield it at my bidding. Though it would be faster, neither I nor any other man would dare use taweyr directly on her. Think what it might do to us,” said King Haikor. “But when she is dead and burned, her ekhono power will finally be destroyed.”

At this, Issa fled to her rooms. She did not think that Haikor even noticed her. Kellin had done what he could. Now it was her turn.

She waited until the small hours of the morning and then slipped out of her room. Her hands shook as she walked across the courtyard, toward the Tower.

T
he Tower was cold and uncomfortable. Ailsbet knew it was ridiculous, but that was all she could think of, that and the ache of hunger in her stomach. She was going to be executed. She should be worried about that, and about her brother, Edik, and what he would face in her father’s court without her. And Issa and Kellin. She should worry about the two islands and the two weyrs, and the prophecy itself. She should worry about the music that she would never write or play for the court of the Prince of Aristonne because she would be dead.

Instead, she tossed and turned through the dark
night, wishing that she had a cushion to lie on instead of the bare stone bench. Shivering, she held her arms around her shoulders and tucked her knees into her chest. She tried to find the heat of the taweyr inside of her, but she had used too much of it and it was gone.

As the sun brought color to the sky, she looked out her window onto the Tower Green below and saw that everything seemed miniaturized, as if they were all part of a set of metal figures, like Edik’s toy soldiers. It made her dizzy and she had to hold herself upright. She felt as if she could not breathe. The air was too thin; there were clouds wisping by; even the birds and the treetops were below her.

She closed her eyes, and felt the Tower sway with the breeze, hearing the stones straining against the mortar that held them together. Suddenly, she turned away from the window and fell to her knees, retching, though there was little left in her stomach but water. When she was finished, she turned her back to the window and did not look outside again.

She had seen the Tower every day from the palace. She had always thought how impressive it was. It was quite a different experience when one was inside of it.

Yesterday, she had climbed the steps herself, with the king’s guards behind her. She had counted the
steps, four hundred and thirty-five, and had asked if she was at the top of the Tower.

“The very top,” said one of the guards. And then he had locked the door behind her, and she was left to face the stink of some previous inhabitants and to slowly add to it herself. The smell of fear was rank and moldy and sour.

Ailsbet had thought silence would be bad enough, but the sounds of the Tower were far worse than no music at all. It was the kind of music a tortured man would make, sighings and groanings and then, at unpredictable intervals, a scream that might or might not have been human.

How did her father make sure the prisoners did not use their taweyr to escape? No doubt he drained them before sending them here, and then killed them before they had time to recover it. Or he starved them until they were too weak to use it.

Suddenly, Ailsbet was startled at the sound of footsteps, followed by a thumping on the door.

“Stand back!” called a guard’s rough voice.

Ailsbet took a deep breath, then looked up as the door opened. To her surprise, there stood Issa.

“No,” gasped Ailsbet. Issa was the last person who should be here. “Take her away!” she told the guard.

He smirked at her. “You’re no princess anymore, to tell me who comes and goes now. She paid me to let her in, and so I let her in. No one will ever know, once you’re dead.” He closed the door behind them, and Ailsbet was chilled at the sound of the lock clanging back into place.

“You shouldn’t have come,” she said.

“You sound like Kellin,” said Issa.

“You should listen to him,” said Ailsbet. “Kellin knows King Haikor well.” If Issa could maintain her betrothal with Edik, perhaps that was the best that anyone could hope for.

“Kellin is not well loved of the king today,” said Issa. “He spoke on your behalf. He thought you should be banished as your brother will be, instead of executed.”

“My brother will be banished?” said Ailsbet. She had hoped that Edik would not be touched by this scandal. But she should have known that her father would make sure everyone suffered because of his displeasure.

“At least, he will live,” said Issa.

Ailsbet shrugged. She knew already that she would not. “And what of you?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Now that the betrothal is at an end, there is no reason for me to remain here.”

“Yes, go home. You will be safe there.”

“For a little while, perhaps,” said Issa.

King Haikor wanted Weirland, thought Ailsbet. What Issa had hoped to prevent would come regardless: the two islands at war, the two weyrs more apart than ever before.

“And I shall be without Kellin,” said Issa. “When I need him most.”

“Why without him? He should go with you. You should both go, as soon as you can.” Kellin could not want to stay here now, no matter how loyal to Rurik he claimed to be. With Edik banished and Ailsbet gone, with the feckless Lady Pippa at King Haikor’s side, there would be no safety for anyone.