The Still

Chapter 32

As the soggy day waned, the banners of our encampment drifted into view. When we neared, my tent flap opened.

Like a small child to a mummers’ wagon Rustin raced toward our party, bereft of dignity, legs pumping. “Roddy! Welcome, my prince! How did it go?” He seized my reins as I brought the mare to a halt.

“A fiasco.” I practically fell into his arms. “Is there such a thing as a hot bath? Tea? A bed?”

With care, he raised the hair from my brow. “Who split your head? Where was Fostrow? What happened? What of Vessa?”

“Give the lad a moment’s peace,” Fostrow said. “I’ll allow he’s had a rough time of it.”

I groaned as Rust helped me strip off my odious jerkin. “Vessa was Mar’s man to the core. Tantroth caught me in his house, and I know not Vessa’s fate.”

“How did you-tell me all!”

“Later. Take care of me, Rustin.” For a moment I thought I would weep. “Let me be a boy until I’m well.”

That, he didn’t do. But he clucked over me like a mother hen, brought me hot water to soak in, steaming tea to inhale, wrapped straw to lie on. I dozed in the crook of his arm and let him ply me with questions until he was satisfied.

“I told you to let me come along,” he chided, but I barely heard. After a time, I slept.

By night I felt well enough to join my trusted few at the campfire. “Groenfil,” I told Tursel. “I’ve no other prospect.”

He frowned. “To avoid Tantroth’s patrols, our best choice is to retrace our steps and cross Soushire’s hills. I’ve no men who know those passes. We risk ambush, attack, betrayal.”

Rustin said, “You forget, Roddy, we’re expected in Verein.”

“Where? Oh!” I’d managed to put Uncle Mar completely out of mind. “I escaped one snare by the fur of my tail. Why set myself another?”

Rust said, “We’d all be with you.”

“Wonderful. We could swing together from the gibbet.”

“Groenfil’s citadel won’t vanish in the night. Let’s learn what wiles Margenthar would practice.”

I scowled, stifling a cough. “Said you not once, that statecraft was my domain?”

“Yes. As advice is mine.”

I sat shivering a while longer. “I’ll go back to bed.”

Anavar said, “Good night, sir. My father says thoughts during sleep are wiser than-”

“May imps gnaw your father!” I thrust aside the tent flap.

Later, Rustin and I lay talking, and before I knew it, he’d woven a ring through my nose: I agreed to visit Uncle Mar at Verein before riding as I wished to Groenfil. For spite, I made him rub the ache from my back, until the candle guttered.

Late at night, I went out of our tent to relieve myself, and heard a creak in the cart that carried our supplies. Wary of thieves and marauders, I crept close.

A groan from within startled me. Dagger drawn, I jumped into the cart, landed with a thud on Anavar, whose hands shot to his lowered breeches.

Under him lay a camp woman, her bare breasts gleaming in the moonlight.

Betrayal.

White rage seized me, such as seldom I’d felt. I’d have plunged my dagger into his back had not he gibbered in terror and brought me to my senses. I flung the Eiberian out of the cart. The woman screamed.

I leaped onto the frightened boy. “You’d rut with whores outside my very tent?” I aimed a kick, that barely missed. “Touch her again and I’ll …”

“Please, my lord!”

Rustin charged out of the tent, sword drawn. Uncertainly, he lowered his blade. “Roddy?”

“Vile foreign scum! Stay away from our servants! Keep your parts sheathed, or I’ll serve them to you for dinner!”

Rust strode across the clearing, interposed himself between me and the Eiberian. “Let go the dagger, Roddy.”

“It’s all right, I won’t-”

“Now!” He caught my wrist

Sullenly, I let it fall. “I won’t go berserk.”

“You already have.” Rustin peered inside the cart, nodded. “So I thought.”

“They were-”

“It happens.” He turned, extended a hand to Anavar. “Up, boy.” He swung the Eiberian to his feet “Raise your breeches; the sight maddens our prince.”

Half in tears, Anavar covered himself, thrust in his shirt. “We just-I didn’t-it was only …”

“Easy, lad.” Rust clapped his shoulder. I swallowed; I hadn’t meant to harm the boy. Well, perhaps I had, but I’d mastered myself now, and-

“Roddy, run down the line, check all the campfires. Other soldiers may be lying with women.”

“Don’t mock me!”

“What else am I to do? Go to the tent.”

It was a way out of my embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Anavar.” I fled.

A few moments later Rustin slipped inside, tied the drawstring. “No doubt he’ll remember the occasion.”

I sat with head in my hands. “It’s just … he’s so young. He’s free to frolic in the night, while I only …”

“Only have me. Tact, Roddy, is one of your lesser virtues.” He sat by my side. “Is that a smile, hiding under the pout?”

“Oh, Rust.” I was near tears. “Is the True worth it all?”

“Answer yourself.”

“The kingdom’s dissolving, and I’ve certainly not wit enough to hold it together without our family wisdom. I know that, but …”

“You want a woman.”

“Desperately.”

A long silence. When we returned to bed, we lay apart.

Verein was many leagues through the hills, far from the sea, well east of the tablelands of grain that fed Castle Stryx.

Recovered from my misadventures, I rode peaceably with Rustin and Elryc. The day was clear and cloudless, and Tantroth’s black sails far from sight.

Under strict orders to refrain from pillage, our troop passed through the few hamlets that sprouted amid the rocky farms. Seeing we were in good order, folk came out from their rude houses to watch the procession. Almost, I donned the crown to show them splendor they’d not soon forget. But I knew it would be presumptuous, and might offend the True.

“Only one thing could ruin this day,” I joked. “Coming upon Hester and her creaking cart.”

“Think you she came this way?” Elryc studied the road, as if for ruts.

“How other?” By her years of service and her wild antics in departing Stryx, Hester had made herself too well known to pass again through the town; she’d make a wide detour. So our path might indeed be hers.

When Fostrow, Anavar, and I had circled the ravines behind the castle to slink into Stryx, we’d dared sneak close behind the stronghold, prepared to flee at the crack of a branch. Now, in paradox, though we were stronger by far, we must give the walls wider berth. It would not do to confront in force either Mar’s loyal troops or those of Tantroth.

Hour after hour we trudged, and at night our campfires dimmed the blanket of stars. By day Tursel sent scouts ranging for provender. They were ordered to buy foodstuffs with Earl Cumber’s stipend, rather than seize provisions, but I doubted all would. How were we to know the provenance of a lamb, or a brace of chickens? Such were the ways of war. Churls expected it.

As sun was fading, we found ourselves well past Stryx, entering the region of Verein. I asked Rustin, “Should I breathe easier when we’re within a league from Mar’s stronghold, in the province of his safe-conduct?”

Rust was half dozing in the last rays of afternoon. “Always breathe easy, my prince.”

Elryc said, “Not so, brother.” He shifted in his saddle. “Can you imagine Mar wishes us well?”

“Not really.”

“Nor I.” He patted his mount’s flanks, guided her away from roadside brush. “Look.” He lifted his cloak, showed me the small sharp dagger within.

“What of it?”

“If Uncle Mar plays us false …” He licked his lips.

I said lightly, “I’m sworn to protect you. If not, Hester will turn me into a toad.”

“I won’t be taken like Pytor, Roddy.” His eyes lifted to mine, as his hand flitted to the blade. “It’s for me, as much as them. I’ll end myself first.”

“Elryc!”

He shivered. “On the battlements of Stryx, hidden in that cursed barrel, I had little to distract my thoughts. Visions of a rope tightening around my throat, or an unseen knife in the night … no!”

“When we meet I’ll keep you and Uncle Mar apart, in the tents. He won’t even know you ride with us.”

“Of course he’ll know; did I cover my face when we cantered through the hamlets? Besides, I can’t hide myself and take part in your counsels.”

“You’re too young to-” I sighed, biting off the rest. Someday, I’d learn not to make rash promises.

At last, late the next morn, we saw the pennant fluttering from the high tower. I bade Tursel call a halt “Send an envoy, with the usual ornate greetings. We’ll meet my uncle on the field.”

Rustin stretched. “I have another thought. Invite him to our camp. With full safe-conduct, of course.”

“Ha.” My mouth twitched. “Neatly done, and he’d be livid.”

“If he’d accept.” He pondered. “We might squander days while envoys rode back and forth to bargain the conclave. Each day heightens our peril. And supplies will run low.”

“Well, then.” I smiled sweetly. “Tell him he’s our host, and must feed us.”

“Only if you come to the castle, he’ll say.”

“We refuse, and learn how much he desires a meeting.”

“Ah, Roddy.” He ruffled my hair. “You learn your craft.”

Mar was furious. We’d agreed to meet at Verein, he responded, and that meant in Verein. Not in a damp tent perched in a plucked cornfield, not in a bivouac guarded by Earl Cumber’s louts. Soft beds and refreshments awaited, and we’d do well to use them, or depart.

Elryc, Rust, and I huddled in conference. Very well, we replied. We would depart.

In that case, why had we traveled so far to see him, Mar inquired.

At his own invitation, we reminded him. But we were short of supplies, and unless he provendered my royal guard, we’d have no choice but to decamp. Not true, of course.

Duke Margenthar sent a wagonload of turnips.

We promptly struck our tents, and moved north a full league before Mar’s envoy caught us. At my order, we heard his speech on horseback, riding ever north. The Duke would meet us in tent, field, or whatever place of my choosing, under my safe-conduct guaranteed him by the True.

“We won the first skirmish,” said Rustin. “But try not to gloat.”

And so, a full day after our arrival, we faced Margenthar, regent of Caledon, over a cook table borrowed from a supply wagon, in the shade of a hastily raised canopy.

“You summoned us, Uncle?” My tone was insufferably sweet, and Rustin frowned a warning.

“It’s something less than a summons,” Mar said dryly. “Nonetheless I’m glad you came.”

I waited.

“Let’s not spar,” he said.

I made a gesture of assent.

He looked to Rustin, and past the tent pole to Fostrow and Tursel, who watched him as a pair of falcons would a mouse. “I’d speak with you alone.”

“To what point? I’ll reveal all to my counselors.”

“Nonetheless.”

I looked to Rustin, and shrugged.

Rust came to his feet in a graceful motion. “I’ll withdraw, my lord Duke, when I’m satisfied you hide no blade.”

Mar’s affable smile vanished. “Dare you question my honor?” The back of his neck flushed red.

I said, “It’s all right, Rust. Go.”

“My prince, I will not obey you in this.” Rustin stood his ground. “And don’t glare so; I don’t much care that you’re incensed.”

I made a helpless gesture. “I’m sorry, Uncle.”

Holding his fury barely in check, Mar permitted Rustin to examine his person. In a moment Rust bowed low, and left us.

Mar’s teeth were clenched. “You’d be King and can’t control a vassal?”

“He’s no vassal.”

Mar breathed deep, restored his calm. “Let’s walk a few paces.” He led me on a random path across the field. “Roddy, our views differ strongly, as you know. I grant you’ve sustained yourself in opposition better than I foresaw.”

“Thank you.”

“But Raeth’s largesse won’t last forever; he’s notoriously tightfisted. You look surprised; think you I don’t know every step you’ve trod, and each word you exchanged with Cumber and Soushire?”

“What is it you want?” It was all I could think of that admitted nothing.

“To make common cause.” He turned, started us back toward the canopy. “We’ve lost Llewelyn’s keep, and that imperils Stryx Castle. Half our troops are bottled within; the others dare not leave Verein unguarded. You hope Tantroth will depart with the winter winds, but take my word he won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“How do I know Prince Elryc is concealed scarce twenty strides from our tent, and advises you? How do I know Vessa’s office is now vacant?”

“Is what?” The meadow reeled.

“Tantroth is less informed than I, and couldn’t take the risk you might acquire the fabled Still. As you may now deduce, your quest to obtain votes to end the regency is hopeless.”

I said nothing, yearning for Rustin’s guidance.

“By the way, Vessa wouldn’t have joined you, whatever your offer. He only hoped to draw out your terms.”

“So you say.” Immediately I regretted it, but his darts had provoked me.

“Roddy, answer in truth: Do you wish Tantroth to take the hill of Stryx?”

“Of course not.” That, he already knew.

“Submit-no, let me phrase it as I really mean. Cooperate with my regency. Together we can compel the aid of Cumber; Raeth might offend one of us but wouldn’t dare wound us both. With his strength added to ours, Soushire’s scheming is neutralized. You are aware, aren’t you, that Soushire’s been in touch with Tantroth on three occasions?”

I tried to let my face show nothing, and no doubt failed.

“It will be a regency in name only, Roddy. I’ll consult with you on policy. I admit I spoke harshly to you, and treated you as a boy, but you’ve shown that’s no longer suitable.”

“In that case, crown me now.”

“May I speak openly, assured that it will go no farther than your tent?”

I nodded.

“The Warthen has sons, and rests uneasily in the vassalage of Caledon. He’s thought of the crown for his own line. And Lady Soushire entertains wild dreams of a strike at the castle.”

“So?”

“They bear the situation, because it is fluid. Your coronation would dash their fantasies. It might provoke them to rash and desperate acts.”

“If that’s so, why didn’t you tell me when we spoke of the regency?”

“While the Council sat, and you of a mind to blunder in and blurt everything you’d been told? I didn’t want them aware how much I knew.”

“But I’d have the Still.”

“Yes. Unfortunately, it’s a trifle overrated.”

It stopped me dead in my tracks. I fastened on his face.

“Remember that Elena was my own sister. She always made of the Still more than it was, to impress the common folk.”

“The Powers-”

“Oh, there’s mild power of compulsion. You could probably use it to make Rustin scratch his privates at a state banquet, and be unaware of the offense. It doesn’t operate at much of a distance.”

“You lie!”

“You’ll see, when the time comes.”

Confusion welled, but I waved it away. “The true Power of the Still is the collective wisdom of Caledon’s-”

“Would you know how Elena described it? A vague presence, a hint of awareness of the land. No crafty ancestors guiding her very thoughts. Just … a brooding presence.”

I cried, “Great houses have great Power! Claim you that Caledon is a petty earldom, with Powers so paltry-”

“Varon of the Steppe, my grandfather and Elena’s, seized Caledon and Eiber too. They were his fiefdoms.”

“Our Power was diminished in that?”

“If ever it was greater.”

I was near tears. “Why would Mother lie?”

“Don’t you know, Rodrigo? Think.”

“It’s too much.” My mind was a whirl, so much so that I even admitted it to him. I glanced to the tent fifty paces hence, and craved to rush to Rustin. “Tell me.”

“Why, it’s plain,” he said. “So that others would fear the Still. By holding it as threat, she outwitted her adversaries, and made good her claim to Caledon.”

If he spoke true, I’d been the fool these four years or more, ever since I’d become able. I blinked back tears. “And you told me not?”

“For the same reason Elena held her tongue. Even if you didn’t cry the news from the battlements”-I flushed-“you’d have rutted through the keep like a stallion in a pen of brood mares, and all would have known you’d never claim your Power.”

The sunlit field seemed to circle me gently. I forced my thoughts to what I knew. “Uncle, if this is so, show me good faith.”

“How?”

“Give me Pytor.”

“Lord of Nature, are you mad?” His eyebrow rose, hung quizzically. “You, Elryc, and Pytor, three noble brothers united? How long would you live? Hours? A week?”

“What say you?”

“Separated, you each have worth as players in the game of state. If Tantroth-or anyone whose interest is counter to yours-knew you three shared a camp, he’d lunge, and put to an end the House of Caledon.”

“Then let me send Pytor-”

“No, Roddy, this goes beyond the crown. For what I owe your mother, I shall not cause your deaths. Trust my wisdom.”

“Let me see him!”

“Of course. He’s within the walls, guarded from harm. You’ll recall I invited you-”

“Bring him hence!”

“No. Some spy might alert our enemies.”

Stung, I cried, “If you know so much, why did Llewelyn betray our House?”

His face turned grave. “Ah, that I don’t know.” A twitch of a smile. “You see? I’m not all-powerful.” Gently, he guided my arm, and again we walked. “He’ll be made to pay, even if he’s your Rustin’s father.”

“Of course.” Casually, I wiped an eye, hoping Uncle Mar wouldn’t know the cause. “Why has Tantroth attacked neither Stryx Castle nor Verein?”

It was his turn to stop, and for a brief moment his face betrayed his surprise. “You truly don’t know?”

“I’m not clever enough to play such games,” I said bitterly. “He seized the town, stole the keep, and halted. Why?”

“It’s you, Roddy.” He waited for my comprehension, saw none. “You escaped the castle, and ride hither and yon stirring up the nobility. Without Llewelyn’s keep the castle is indefensible; Tantroth has no hurry. If Tantroth attacks Stryx forthwith, or Verein, he forces your hand. He waits to end his uncertainty before committing his troops to battle.”

“But …”

“Even if he hadn’t heard of your mad scheme to beard Vessa, he’d have guessed you’d try. He hoped to capture you himself. Failing that, he waits to see with whom you’ll ally yourself.”

I gaped. “What does he fear?”

“Why, the Still, what else? Remember, in the whole realm none but you and I know it is less than it seems.”

“No more!” I turned toward the tent. “I’ll speak with my advisors.”

“Roddy, listen!” He caught my arm. “Forget for a moment that our aspirations disjoin. I took great risk telling you the truth of the Still. If you breathe of it to the others, all the realm will know within a fortnight. Let the Norlanders but learn of it, and Caledon will be lost. Eiber’s might is a paltry shadow of theirs.”

“How can I-” I thrust off his arm, strode to the tent. “I won’t hear more, until I’ve time to think.”

“Take heed.”

“I won’t tell them. Not yet. Rustin!” I beckoned. “See my lord Duke has refreshment.”

Rust bowed in acknowledgment. “Of course.” His tone was sardonic. “Perhaps a warm bowl of turnip stew.”

I growled something unkind, fled to my tent, closed the flap.

By the time Elryc looked in, a few moments later, I was near frenzy. He asked what had been said. I told him what I could, pacing from pole to pole, sitting on the bed, jumping up to pace anew. Though I yearned to, I said nothing of the Still.

“I wonder,” he said, “how Uncle knew about Vessa.”

“Walls have ears.” And so did tents. I threw open the flap, rushed outside, raced around the tent.

None lingered near.

I fell again on my bed. “A regency seems wise, if you look at it from his view.” If the Still was nothing, why hasten to don the crown?

“Roddy, take a rake, and separate grain from chaff.”

“It’s a cornfield we’re near, not a-”

“Don’t be so literal. In what Uncle says, I meant. Let’s divide lies from truth.”

“He told me other things,” I blurted, before I came to my senses and pressed my mouth shut. Had I been overheard? I ran outside, peered around the tent poles.

Elryc’s look was intent. “What more?”

“Nothing you need know.” I realized how surly I sounded, knew I didn’t need another enemy. “I’m sorry. When I need counsel it will be yours I seek.”

He seemed mollified only in part. “Say what troubles you.”

“No!” Unexpectedly, I blinked back tears, thought of Tresa’s hand on my ribs, and my cool disdain. Mother had tricked me into tormenting myself for her statecraft. It would end, and soon, even if I had to pay a girl such as Chela.

The flap swirled open, and Rustin appeared. “Three times the tent opened, and twice you emerged, to dart inside a moment after. Have imps seized your wits?”

“Get out!”

“First tell me why you rush about the tent like a strangled chicken.”

I bit back a sob. “This is no time for-”

“Elryc, leave.” It was a command, and Elryc obeyed. The moment the flap closed Rust said, “My prince, what frets you so?”

“Nothing I would discuss. I’m ready.”

“Ready to what?”

“Resume our parley.” To concede the regency.

It seemed to decide him. “We’ll take a walk.”

“Not now.”

“I insist.”

“How dare you!”

“By your own oath, Roddy.”

A vow by the True, else I’d lose the Still. My laugh was harsh. “I renounce it.”

I’d thought it might enrage him. Instead, he came close, ran his finger softly across my cheek. “It’s too warm for a cloak.”

I thrust his hand from the chain at my neck. “Rust, please! I don’t want to fight, but …”

“Take it off. Now!” His voice was like a whip.

Numbly, I complied.

“Outside.” He held the flap.

It mattered not whether I allowed his domination. Caledon was all but in Tantroth’s hands, I had not four votes in Council, and I knew I would submit to the regency ere the sun was set. Meekly, I followed.

He led me to a shady grove well within the perimeter of our guards. “Sit.” I did, and to my surprise, he lay himself down, eased his head into my lap.

“Now …” He plucked a blade of grass with which to tease his lips. “Unless imps have stolen your sense, all that’s occurred since this morn was your meet with the Duke. Since it’s unhinged you, I’ll learn why.”

“I won’t say.”

“Of course you will. Rub behind my ear, will you? It itches. There’s a good boy. You’re desperate to tell me, we both know it.”

“I’m not!”

After a moment he said, “Turn your head if you must cry. The tears drop on my nose.”

“Imps take you!”

“Begin with the regency. The rest will follow.”

Despite my stubborn resolve I spoke, and put the fate of Caledon in his hands, and felt the better for it.

“Rust?”

“Yes, my prince?” His hair was warm in my lap.

“How will I be a man, so I need not run to tell you all?”

“It will come.” He sounded sure, and I ached to believe him.

“What shall we do?”

“Ask Elryc’s counsel.”

My tone was bitter. “Then it will be as Uncle said. If two know a secret, each knows who spoke it, but when three know …”

“Elryc trusts you with his life, and holds yours. It’s as should be.” He sat.

Sighing, I stood. “I wish you’d stop blathering about trust. Someday I have to rule.”

“Yes, I’ve heard you speak of intrigue and the halls of kings. Very apt. But we can’t live without trust, and without …” He glanced about. “I hope Elryc hasn’t gone far.”

“Without what?”

“Love. Ah, there he is.” He beckoned, and Elryc came running. “Roddy has more to tell you. Is Genard handy? Have him bring us some dilute wine. Cold, if there’s some been set in a stream.”

I lay on my bed, drained of all emotion. We’d sent Mar home, saying we’d answer on the morrow. Rust, Elryc, and I had talked into the night, reviewing all possibilities.

If Mar’s claim was true, there was no point fighting on. The Warthen was lost, by his refusal to parley. Groenfil was Mar’s kin, and betrayed by my arrangement with Soushire; winning his support was doubtful. I could ride back to Cumber, but the longer I dithered, the more chance Tantroth would tire of waiting and strike, and learn in battle that the Still had no potency.

Elryc toyed with his empty cup. “Roddy, what if it’s a lie?”

“Which part? The Warthen does have sons, and wouldn’t see us. Cumber is stingy. What difference does it make if Soushire treated with Tantroth before we agreed-”

He said, “All of it.”

Rust raised himself, listening intently.

“Every word. About Soushire and Groenfil. The Warthen’s ambition, and Tantroth’s intent.”

“But why spin such a tale? Why go to the trouble?”

“Yes.” Rustin. “That’s it. Think, Roddy. You’re yourself again.”

“Don’t set me a puzzle.” I goaded my thoughts, found myself sinking in a marsh of possibilities. If Tantroth had other reason to stay his hand, that meant … If Soushire was true to our bargain, that meant …

Abruptly I looked up. It was so simple.

“I was on the brink of submitting.”

“Yes.”

“But …” There was more. I stood to pace; stirring my blood might help me to think. “His whole purpose in spinning his tale was to win my acceptance of his regency. That means he wants me in his control. My person has value. Why?”

Rustin lay back with a smile of contentment. “Think on it. If you haven’t solved the riddle by morn I’ll tell you.”

I looked for dregs of wine to sprinkle on his face, but all was gone.

Whatever the answer was, it made Rustin happy.

What would give Rustin such pleasure, on this weary night? Ah. My heart leaped.

“He lied about the Still,” I said. “The Power is more than a ruse.”

Rust smiled, and I saw in him a stable cat that had just trapped a mouse.

In the morn, I proposed that we simply turn about and return to Cumber, but Elryc pointed out that would show Uncle Mar his tales were unbelieved. That was the case, I told him. But, he asked, why give that knowledge to Uncle?

So we summoned the Duke’s envoy, to tell him I would have no answer for a week, that I would return to the hospitality of Cumber. Rust bade me act upset and angry when I spoke to the envoy, and I promised I would. But just before taking me within the envoy’s sight he pinched me between the legs so hard my eyes bulged. Before I could draw breath to protest he hauled me to the canopy.

It was all I could do not to walk doubled over. Face red, aching, determined to revenge Rust’s wanton brutality, I grated through my rehearsed speech, turned on my heel and strode out, or tried to.

As we broke camp Rust was nowhere to be found, though I sent Anavar, Genard, even Fostrow searching.

It wasn’t until dark and the tents were set up anew that Rust ambled into view while we sat about the fire. “I suppose you’re going to berate me?” He took a seat at my side.

“I know why you did it, but it hurt.”

“Yes, otherwise it wouldn’t suffice.” He slung an arm over my shoulder. “Most humbly, I beg forgiveness.”

“And you hadn’t faith in my acting.”

“Of course not. Your face mirrors your every humor.”

“Bah. What does it reveal now?”

“That you wish you needn’t pretend to be angry.” A gentle squeeze.

How was it possible to stay piqued at him? “Genard, I’m sure Rustin is hungry. Fetch him a bowl of turnips.”

As penance, Rust ate them.

The next morn, as we rode toward Cumber, I took Rustin aside. “I’ve been thinking.”

“A dangerous habit. Overcome it, lest-”

“Be serious. What if all Mar said of the Still is true? What if I’ve denied myself for naught?”

“We decided last night-”

“And if we’re wrong? His tale made sense. Of course Mother wouldn’t tell me the Still had no value, as long as folk could see I prepared myself for it. Perhaps as I grew older she would have revealed the secret.”

“If it were so, what would you do?”

“If the Power has no value … Rust, I’m older now, and wiser. No one need know who shares my bed.”

He studied me long. “Is this about last night, my prince?”

I blushed. When finally we’d crept into our tent I’d shivered with cold, then found myself thinking of Uncle Raeth’s granddaughter Tresa, and stirred with uncommon passion. I’d waited for Rust to notice, and when he seemed oblivious, I for the first time turned to him, instead of waiting for his touch.

“No,” I snapped. “This is about Mar, and Mother.”

He rode awhile. “You can’t solve the riddle of your Power until you’re crowned and have the Vessels. So, would you spend the Still like some exotic foreign coin, without first learning its worth?”

I opened my mouth, and closed it again. Surely there must be a solution that didn’t leave me trapped in helpless chastity.

At that moment Anavar pulled up alongside. “May I speak with you, Lord Prince?” No others were in hearing, save Elryc, who dozed in his saddle.

At Rust, I rolled my eyes. “If you must.”

“The other night-the girl … it would appear I owe you an apology. Forgive me. I didn’t know the customs of your camp.”

Gracefully put. Reluctantly, I nodded. “You startled me.” After a moment I knew that wasn’t enough to explain my bizarre behavior. I lowered my voice. “Know you anything of the Still of Caledon, or its requirements?”

“No, my lord.”

I fell silent.

From Rustin, gently, “Go on, Roddy.”

My voice was stiff. “Until I set down my Still forever, I must remain a virgin.”

“Oh.” A sound of wonder. His eyes darted to mine, in reappraisal. I reddened.

“It makes me … impatient And, I suppose, jealous. You’re but fourteen.” I braced for the inevitable snigger.

“My lord, I’m so sorry!” His eyes were wide. “Please, I meant no harm, no disrespect. If only I’d known …” To my amazement his voice was tremulous. “Truly, I would not hurt thee.”

I snorted. “I’ve hurt you enough.”

“It’s nothing. I owe you my very life.” He was silent awhile. Then, “Are there other ways?” His ears were red.

I shifted in the saddle, unhappy I’d brought up the matter. “None I’d care to discuss.”

As solemnly as if he meant it, Rustin asked, “What would you suggest?”

For the next hour my Eiberian ward racked his brains to propose amorous possibilities, while I rode stiffly, eyes ahead, dreaming wistfully about Rust’s funeral.