Korigan shrugged. “But I need to hear something from you. Did you choose to go to the High Sooq because you thought it was the best course, or because it would cross Kumul?”
“Both, probably. I find it hard to remember what I was thinking that night; I just remember the anger.”
“He was angry that night as well.”
Lynan snorted. “He thought I would always follow him.”
“Well, now that you are coming into your own, I think you will find he will always follow you.”
There was a gust of wind. Snowflakes fell onto Lynan’s hand and instantly melted.
“The Sleeping Storms,” Lynan muttered. Korigan’s expression showed her surprise. “Gudon told me that these cold autumn southerlies almost always brought snow, and that it marked the time when many animals start their hibernation.”
“You have been spending a great deal of time with Gudon learning about the Oceans of Grass and we who live on it. That is good. But it is not the hibernating animals that give the storms their name.”
“No?”
“I remember a late autumn when I was campaigning with my father against a rebel Chett clan. We got caught by one these storms. The next day we found two of our outriders had frozen to death. They fell asleep and never woke up. That is why we call them the Sleeping Storms.” More snow flurried around them. “We should go back.”
“I will not fall asleep,” Lynan said.
“But your horse may.”
“There is a storm coming,” Ager said.
“It’s just a breeze,” Kumul replied. He was using a whetstone on his sword and was barely conscious of the wind starting to howl around the tent they were in.
“I can feel it in my bones. Ever since my back was sliced open by an ax, I’ve been sensitive to storms. They make my muscles ache.”
“Rubbish,” Kumul grunted.
“I have heard similar stories from others with serious wounds,” Jenrosa said reasonably, restraining the urge to snap at Kumul; she was getting tired of his abrupt manner. She knew he worried constantly about Lynan and the changes that had been wrought in him—partly through her own intervention when she saved his life—but she and Ager were also concerned. Lynan was their friend as well, after all.
Kumul wiped the blade clean with a corner of his poncho, then licked his thumb and ran it along the flat near the sharp edge. The edge started to pull on his skin and he knew it was sharp enough. He now quickly sliced the whetstone along the edge at contrary angles, slightly serrating it, then repeated the test with his thumb. He nicked it twice.
The tent’s flap snapped open and waved furiously in a sudden gust.
“God’s death!” Kumul cursed and reached across to retie the flap. A whirl of snow blew in before he could finish.
“I told you there was a storm coming,” Ager said smugly.
Kumul gave him a sour look. “Snow. That’s all we need. It’ll halve the clan’s pace.”
“After all our rushing around in summer I thought you’d appreciate a more sedate pace.”
“There are things to be done, and we can’t do them here.”
“Lynan made a decision for himself,” Ager said gently. “It’s what we’ve always wanted him to do.”
“It wasn’t just for himself,” Jenrosa pointed out. “He made a decision for all of us.”
“He’s our prince,” Ager countered. “And now he’s our leader as well.”
“He’ll be a damn sight more than a prince if this Chett queen has her way,” Kumul said.
“What do you mean?” Jenrosa asked.
Ager and Kumul exchanged quick glances. Ager nodded.
“Korigan believes Lynan should seek the throne,” Kumul said stiffly.
“I don’t understand. Why would Korigan want Lynan to become king of the Chetts?”
“Not her throne,” Ager answered. “Korigan thinks Lynan should usurp Areava.”
Jenrosa’s gray eyes widened in surprise. “Oh.”
“And Kumul disagrees,” Ager finished.
“And you?”
Ager shrugged. “I don’t know anymore.”
“You agreed with me the other night,” Kumul said.
“I agreed with you about not going to the High Sooq. I said nothing one way or the other about Lynan taking the throne of Grenda Lear.”
Kumul stared down at the ground. He seemed to draw in on himself. Jenrosa sat next to him. “Kumul, is there another way?”
“What do you mean?” Kumul growled.
“Can Lynan return to Kendra and take up where he left off? Is that possible?”
“I don’t see why not. If we reveal Orkid and Dejanus as the murderers of Berayma, nothing can stop Lynan from resuming his position in the palace.”
“And you will be constable again, and Ager a captain in the Royal Guard.”
“And you back to your studies with the Theurgia of Stars. Yes. Isn’t that what we all want?”
“Is that what you want, still?”
“Yes.”
“And what of Areava and the Twenty Houses?”
“Areava’s not stupid. She will make up with Lynan. The Twenty Houses will do what they’re told.”
“What if Lynan decides to go for the throne? Will you stop him?”
Kumul looked up at Jenrosa, startled. “No. No, he wouldn’t do that.”
“Lynan has changed. Ager said he has become a leader. Can he go to war against Areava and in the end not take the throne from her?”
Kumul stood up quickly. “No. Lynan wouldn’t do that. I know him.”
“You knew Lynan the boy,” Jenrosa said. “How sure can any of us be that we know Lynan the white wolf?”
“White wolf?” Kumul barked. “Pah!”
Jenrosa stood up, too. Kumul tried to avoid her gaze, but she reached out and held his jaw. “Have you been listening to the Chetts?” she said, her voice suddenly fierce. “They almost worship him, and he’s only been with them a short time. If he decides to go for the throne, and Korigan supports him, do you think the Chetts will hold back?”
“He’ll need more than the Chetts to win the whole of Grenda Lear.”
“Are you so sure?” Ager asked. “This is just one clan. Seven thousand warriors. How many clans did Gudon say there were? Seventeen major ones, at least.”
“They are all horse archers,” Kumul said dismissively. “In the hills and fields and rivers in the east they would be trapped and slaughtered.”
“Unless they’re trained to fight differently.”
“Why should we train them? So Lynan can go after Areava’s crown?”
“We were going to raise an army to force the issue anyway,” Ager argued.
Kumul did not reply.
“Weren’t we?” Ager insisted.
“Yes.” Kumul had to squeeze out the word. His blue eyes glared at Ager.
“And what were you going to do with the army?” Jenrosa asked him. She stood in front of him, feet firmly planted, arms akimbo, as if she was confronting a particularly stubborn mule.
“Force Areava to submit,” he said numbly. “Force her to bring Orkid and Dejanus to trial.” His voice suddenly rose. “Force her to right the wrong of Berayma’s murder and Lynan’s exile!”
“And having done all these things under duress, how long would Areava let Lynan be left free in the palace? How long would any of us remain free?”
Again, Kumul did not reply.
“I am tired,” Ager said. “We can argue about this later.”
Jenrosa followed Ager to the entrance; when the flap was untied, he held it open for her to go through, but she shook her head. He gave her a quizzical smile, then shrugged and left, soon disappearing in the flurries of wind-swept snow. Jenrosa tied up the flap behind him and turned to face Kumul.
“He did not mean to corner you like that,” Jenrosa said.
“I know. But I do not... I cannot... agree with him, or Korigan or Gudon.”
Jenrosa stood in front of Kumul. “I know,” she said.
“What they want to do isn’t right.”
“I know.”
“You must be tired, too.”
Jenrosa pursed her lips. “Do you want me to go?”