The Seedbearing Prince: Part I (35 page)

“I wish that were true, Highest, but the
Force Lord was adamant. Pararsha, at least, has remained a Force
Captain. I will be used by the World Belt as my station
allows.”

Dayn's jaw dropped, but he quickly composed
himself.
The Defender in the Crystal Walk was Nassir's
sister?
How in peace’s reach do I tell him about that?

“As is a fitting response, for all of those
within earshot. I see that your political acumen is already
increasing.” Nassir's eyes narrowed slightly at the wry tone of the
Highest, and he briefly showed his teeth―the closest Dayn had ever
seen the Defender come to a full smile. Open amusement shone among
the High, but the rest of the Arans remained prudently silent.

The Highest did not spare the Preceptor,
either. “Lurec, it is well to see you whole. I feared your eyebrows
wouldn’t grow back after the last news I heard of your studies into
vapor infusion.”

Lurec colored slightly, but not in anger. The
rest of the High smiled even wider. The Highest Shir-Hun conversed
like a kindly grandfather, and obviously knew both Ringmen quite
well.

“And finally...Ro’Halan, is it? You bless us
with your presence, young planter. Never before has Ara welcomed a
prince of Shard.” The room rippled with chuckles, punctuated by a
few loud guffaws before the Arans managed to quiet themselves
again.
So it’s fine to laugh at me, is it?
Dayn grumbled
inwardly.
They’ve all been holding it in long enough!

Dayn opened his mouth to say he was no such
thing, but the Highest continued smoothly, already addressing the
Ringmen again. “I’m pleased you are here, my former pupils. The
outer provinces of Ara are gathered in for the Sending―your timing
is fortunate. Otherwise it would take weeks to send for the High
Chairs and hear the Ring's petition. As it is, the High Crina is
not present due to urgent affairs in the south. I hope six chairs
will suffice.”

“They will serve,” Lurec said. “It is good to
see you, Highest. I hear rumors that your son Gorhaj is selected
for next season's Cycle?”

To Dayn's surprise, the Defender did not
bristle at Lurec's continued banter.
The Highest isn’t acting
like he just ordered an attack,
he thought with a frown.
Did
the horsemen trick us? Maybe they’re from another world.

The Ringmen both wore the pained faces of men
who could find no way to avoid an unpleasant task. Shir-Hun beamed,
oblivious to their consternation. The surrounding High Seats,
however, scrutinized the Ringmen's every expression with mounting
concern.

“Yes, yes! I recall now you were such an avid
fan of the tournaments, Preceptor. My son will prove to be quite
the challenge for those bloodthirsty Dervishi. They won’t surprise
us as they did last Cycle. You should see him, Nassir. The sword
looks as though it could melt in his hand. He flows through forms
with his eyes closed, and―”

The Highest almost looked ready to
demonstrate, but caught himself before actually standing. “Well,
yes...but we can talk of that later, you shall meet him during
tomorrow's ceremonies. I insist you stay as guests. The Ring’s
turning can wait a single day. Now, what is your petition?”

Nassir inclined his head to the Aran gentry
gathered behind them, awaiting their turn to address the High. “The
matter is best spoken with the High alone.”

“Nonsense. You would not be here so
unexpectedly without a great need. How may Ara aid the Ring?”

Dayn suddenly felt queasy, watching all of
the High lean forward in their chairs expectantly.
They’ve no
idea why we are here.
Lurec frowned, bracing himself as Nassir
drew a deep breath, unable to delay his duty.

“The Ring has found Ara in breach of the
Treaty of Irshev by way of unwarranted hostilities against the
sovereign world of Suralose. I call the High to account for these
crimes, and require the Highest Shir-Hun to submit himself to the
Lord Ascendant for judgment.” Nassir spoke his accusations with
enough force, but seemed to drag that last bit out of himself.

Shocked cries of indignation and outrage
sounded throughout the chamber, but cut off sharply when Lurec
stepped forward. Dayn recalled an old saying,
even the wisest
men do not whisper when a Preceptor's lips part to speak.

“A Preceptor of the Ring bears witness to
these events firsthand. I merit the accusations to be just.
Punishment is deserved.”

His words were taken worse than a physical
blow, judging from the faces of the High. The earlier calm masks
were completely dissolved as their angry shouts echoed throughout
the hall.

“Preposterous!” One of the High roared, a man
with a silver widow's peak and purpling face, sitting to the far
right. The rest of his words were drowned out as the Aran gentry
protested in growing waves. A quick glance around the room showed
distraught faces everywhere, except for the Highest himself. The
guards fingered their sword hilts and stared coldly at Nassir.

“We witnessed the attack ourselves,” Lurec
spoke loudly enough for the Highs' ears. “Aran men, on unmistakably
Aran horses. The rockstorm they caused destroyed our transport and
killed two Ring navigators. Many Suralosan lives were lost.”

Veins bulged on the neck of the purple-faced
High. “So you bring such accusations on the eve of the First
Prince's farewell? You would take our Highest in shackles before
the Veiled Throne? We’ll not stand for it, Ringbound! I shall―”

“I shall have this hall
silent.”
The
Highest's deliberate words immediately quieted the room.

Dayn’s uneasiness grew, a hard knot tying
itself into the folds of his stomach.
Peace, is this how it will
be for us on every new world?
The five High quickly regained
their composure. The guards remained in place. Yet somehow, Dayn
knew this would go much worse than Suralose. He glanced to the
crowd. The Arans all quivered with fury and confusion, waiting
intently for the Highest's next words.

“Defender, I will answer for these charges,”
Shir-Hun said levelly. Pensive lines creased the Highest's
forehead. “I suspect I know the reason for High Crina's absence
now. So rash...always so rash.” He motioned to the empty chair on
the left of the semi-circle absently, and worried mutterings filled
the chamber.

The Highest fixed Dayn with a razor sharp
gaze. “And what of this one’s presence, Ringmen? Have the actions
of one of our own somehow endangered Shard? Peace rebuke us all, if
that is so!”

Dayn’s tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth
as he felt every eye in Jemlar’s Hall swing to him.

“No,” the Defender said. “He is on a journey
of goodwill, sent by the Lord Ascendant herself.” The Highest's
eyebrows raised speculatively. “You’ll find his story timely. Too
much danger lurks within the World Belt for our treaties to crumble
now.”

“Now, or ever.” The Highest nodded in
agreement, sighing heavily. With his former exuberance vanished, he
now looked as though the whole of Ara weighed down upon him. “Our
young men dream only for a small chance to compete in the Cycle.
They burn for the rest of the Belt to regard Ara as strong, as if a
moment's fleeting glory with a sword would heal all that ails our
world.”

Dayn looked at his feet, abashed. The Highest
could just as easily be talking about his own desire to course.

“This sadness I’ve seen with my own eyes,”
Shir-Hun continued, his somber gaze fixed on Dayn. “Our young do
not know the scars others chose to bear so peace remains assured.
They do not remember the blood spilled for the sand. I trust in the
Force Lord―and the Halls of Understanding, by your presence,
Preceptor. But the Ring speaks goodwill and calls for my blood in
the same breath.”

Jemlar's Hall thundered dangerously in
agreement. The Aran guards looked around grimly. Dayn could see
that every swordsman in the room would willingly die on Nassir's
sword before allowing the Highest to be taken to the Ring.

The Defender looked back, motioning for Dayn
to begin his story. The back of Dayn's neck prickled, and he wiped
sudden sweat from his brow. He cleared his throat a few times,
finally opening his mouth.

“Highest, I must protest this travesty!” The
eruption came from the same High Seat as before, and Shir-Hun
rounded on him angrily.

“Thannil, that is enough.” Shir-Hun lanced
the man with a withering look, but he still persisted.

“Forgiveness, but Crina is not present to
defend herself from the accusations of these Ringbound.” Nassir and
Lurec's eyes both narrowed, and High Thannil continued hurriedly.
“Peace shade my soul, I don’t doubt the Preceptor's word. But to
take you in her place is unreasonable, Highest.”

The rest of the High Seats sternly nodded
their agreement. Highest Shir-Hun sighed again. “Is it unreasonable
for the High to be held to account? If not I, then who?”

“But Highest, I―”

“We dispatched a dozen rockstormers, and
cavalry with them,” another of the Aran High Seats blurted out, a
balding man with tufts of white hair above his ears and wide brown
eyes. They grew even wider as a shocked silence descended.

“And you, Orsot?” Highest Shir-Hun looked
utterly aghast. “Rockstormers, why? To destroy the very strongholds
which
keep Ara alive?”

“I told Crina it was too much,” High Orsot
muttered, hanging his head in shame. But he gathered himself, and
pointed accusingly at the Ringmen. “She claimed the water treaty
would soon be broken by Suralose, and promised the Ring would
affirm our actions.”

Shir-Hun leaned back, genuinely surprised.
“You have proof of this?”

“Our actions were affirmed by Consorts! Yet
these two stand here as though the Consorts’ words are false. I say
that the Ring is no longer trustworthy, and we must see to
ourselves!”

Nassir’s face darkened, and Lurec’s blue eyes
shone with outrage.
They never believed the Aran prisoners,
Dayn thought. He could not shake his increasing nervousness, and
kept glancing over his shoulder. A foul temper had overtaken
Jemlar's Hall, and he feared the crowd meant to rush them,
dignified Aran gentry or not.

Something is wrong, but I don’t know which
weed holds the thorns.
He clenched a fist on his staff
unconsciously.
Are the High all lying? Or is Shir-Hun himself
tricking the Ringmen, playing the part of old friend?
Dayn
could not bring himself to believe the Highest lied to them.

“No Consort could speak those words and
live,” Nassir said bluntly, staring High Orsot dead in the eye. The
man quailed in his seat. “This I assure you.”

The Highest cut off the Aran's retort with an
upraised hand. “We will act in good faith, as no place is free
of...dispute. Not even the Ring. In good faith, Ara will recompense
the loss of a transport.”

Several of the High let their mouths fall
open at that pronouncement before jerking back to face forward.
Shir-Hun paused, then continued. “And in good faith, I will submit
myself before the Lord Ascendant without delay.” The Highest's
words were iron. Not one of the High dared to protest. Indeed the
whole chamber grew silent. Shir-Hun looked down a moment, and
seemed to age another season before addressing Nassir, his voice
finally faltering. “I ask only that you permit me, Brother
Defender, to see my son sent to the Cycle first. If it pleases the
Ring.”

The crowd rippled with anger as the silence
stretched. “It is agreed, upon my word.” Lurec interjected quickly
upon realizing Nassir could not bring forth the words. Torment
twisted in the Defender's brown gaze as the Highest looked upon
him, shamed and grieved. To come to such a decision, amongst a
gathering of Ara's most distinguished...at that moment, Dayn could
not imagine a stronger world leader.

Lurec opened his mouth to smooth over the
awkward juncture, but his words were lost as one of the High called
loudly, the dome amplifying her voice. She thrust a finger toward a
cluster of gentry near the High’s entrance.

“I see you, attendant! Come forth!”

Aran merchants and gentry blocked Dayn's
view. He saw a flash of Aran guards, filling the entranceway from
the outside. Confused people melted away from the High's
finger.

High Orsot stood, peering into the crowd.
“Cham? The Consort's servant? Yes, there you are! Why not stand
here with your fellow Ringbound? Where is your master? Come man,
step forward!”

The man in question froze. More of the Arans
shrank away, and Dayn suddenly understood what made him feel so on
edge before. His hands began to shake with fear.

The so-called attendant wore a cumbersome
robe that dragged along the ground, with a hood so deep no light
penetrated to his face. He stood hunched before High Orsot singled
him out, but he now straightened to reveal his true height. The
voidwalker stood so close, Dayn's stomach writhed. The opening of
that black cowl swung and fastened directly upon him.

“That creature is not of the Ring!” Nassir
snarled. The Defender all but tore the massive sword from its
moorings on his back. Screams spread through the chamber like a
scorchleaf rash. Panic mounted as people cowered from the
voidwalker, only to recoil from Nassir and his great black
blade.

The High were all on their feet, each
shouting to the Aran guards. They hesitated at the conflicting
commands, except for the bearded guard who planted himself before
Shir-Hun. Some others barred Nassir's way, which made the crowd
shout all the louder. More guards appeared at every entrance,
blocking the Arans’ flight.

“Afraid the attendant will uncover your plot,
Ringman?” High Orsot said with a trace of malice.

“You blind fool!” Shir-Hun's voice sounded
like a whip. Nassir paused, his attention riveted on the
voidwalker, but he clearly did not want to engage the intervening
guards.