“That’s what your father said, am I right?”
“Yes.”
“Well, when else will you have the chance? You’re a well-bred, mannerly young man; you won’t do anything stupid. Have your fun—meet them, talk to them. They know as well as you that it’s not serious.”
“But I’m supposed to be Mikeli’s envoy—”
“And you are, and I’ve accepted you as such. Now go enchant some of my younger subjects and keep them from making sheep’s eyes at me.”
The kirgan grinned. “As it is a royal order—”
“It is.”
“I obey with pleasure.” And he was gone, intercepting three who had been heading for their corner, no doubt to flirt with Kieri.
“What do you think of her?” Sier Halveric said, with a nod to the lady of Pargun.
“A good choice,” Kieri said. “If she does nothing overt, we can’t kill her. She’s obviously intelligent, and as people trust an old woman with her personality, they will tell her everything we wish they would not. She will go home stuffed with information like a southern date with chopped nuts. We can do nothing about that but note who talks most.”
“I’m still worried about your safety.”
“True, old ladies don’t fear death,” Kieri said. “If she wanted me dead—and she might—she would not hesitate to strike though it meant her own end. But I think her plots are subtler than that. She wants to know me, and take word back to Pargun of my weaknesses. It will be an interesting few days.”
“If she asks a private audience—”
“Alas, my time is already committed, since I did not know she was coming, and I cannot ask one of those already promised an audience to yield to her.”
“Thank the gods for that much,” Halveric murmured.
“You’re really worried,” Kieri said.
“Yes. Perhaps the Lady will know why.”
The Kostandanyan envoy bustled up and Kieri greeted him; Sier Halveric slipped away. Count Arpad began the chat with a question about the two Kostandanyan mercenary commanders Kieri had known in Aarenis—such different personalities. Kieri agreed: Sofi Ganarrion, flamboyant and socially ambitious, had been nothing like Count Visan Vladiorhynsich, grim and controlled. Arpad went on: And the Ganarrion girl marrying a southern noble, was that true?
“Sofi was trying to arrange it, but I hadn’t heard lately.”
“Well. You know what he claims—”
Kieri nodded. Sofi had dropped hints many times of his royal connections. Arpad talked on, finally bringing the conversation around to Alured the Black, the pirate-turned-forest-brigand-turned-ally who now claimed to rule a third of Aarenis.
“He’s a very ambitious man, Alured,” Kieri said. His mind wandered to Arcolin, now in Alured’s reach with only one cohort. Would he remember how dangerous Alured was?
“You’ve met him, then.”
“Oh, yes. Much younger than I, with a gift for command but also for cruelty.”
“No danger to us in the north, of course, but for alliances,” the envoy said.
“I would not be too sure,” Kieri said. “I deem Alured dangerous, wherever he may be.”
“Then surely it is unwise for any blood close to ours to become involved down there.” The envoy stopped and gave Kieri a meaningful glance.
Kieri stifled a chuckle. “What cause have you to interfere?” he asked instead, though he began to see what might be coming. “If her father approves—”
“We are supposed to give permission—”
Admission enough that Sofi’s occasional boasts were probably true.
“But I’m sure if someone with a more illustrious title were to offer for her—” the envoy went on.
Kieri raised his brows. “More illustrious than the ancient title of Fall?”
“Well, there is one.” The envoy gave him a meaningful look. Kieri almost laughed.
“I’m afraid Sofi and I have had words too often,” he said instead. “And besides, isn’t the girl already in the south? I could hardly leave Lyonya to go pluck her out of the Duke of Fall’s castle before the wedding.”
“We have others,” the envoy said, a bit sulkily.
“It is too early for me to think of marriage,” Kieri said.
“It is never too early to secure the succession,” the envoy said. Kieri remembered that the Kostandanyan princes were usually married off before they reached majority.
“I’m sorry,” Kieri said, nodding across the room as if in answer to someone. “But I must see my seneschal—”
Out of the room, in the passage, it was quieter and cooler. Kieri went on, flanked by his Squires, to the small parlor he’d had readied in case he needed it. Here, where he expected solitude, he found the Lady of the Ladysforest, his elven grandmother. As at their first meeting, he was at first struck dumb by her beauty and power; she appeared no older than a maid of twenty but carried with her the silvery radiance of the elvenhome kingdom, a glow that expressed her power. She smiled.
“If you need solitude, Kieri, I will go, but I was hoping to talk to you about the Pargunese lady.”
“As long as you do not talk to me about marriage, I am content,” Kieri said. “I just escaped from the Kostandanyan envoy, who would like me to marry one of Sofi Ganarrion’s daughters.”
“Isn’t he—”
“A mercenary commander in Aarenis who claims some connection to that throne, yes.” Kieri sank into one of the chairs. “I know Sofi. I would not marry one of his get for all the gold in the mountains.”
“Then let us speak of the lady of Pargun,” his grandmother said. “A subtle woman, for a human; more layers than an onion. What did you think of her?”
“The same,” Kieri said. “She spoke to me of peace between our realms, and laid fault on both sides for past conflicts.”
“So also would we, if we were asked,” the Lady said. “Though I suspect we would apportion it differently than she. Was it then an offer of truce or an end to war?”
“Not really,” Kieri said. He glanced at the table where he had arranged refreshments; before he or a Squire could move, the Lady poured water into two goblets and brought them to hand—all without moving. Kieri repressed the shiver he felt. He had seen her use greater magicks, but this homely familiarity chilled him. “We agreed that war is unpleasant, that peace is preferable—but that is all. I find it hard to trust such statements from a Pargunese.” He took a swallow of water.
“She may find it hard to trust them from you,” the Lady said. “I think it is a good thing that the word was so much as mentioned between you. If this enmity could end—do you truly want it to end, Grandson?”
“I do,” Kieri said.
“Then you must make the effort.”
“Without risking the security of the realm.” On that he would not yield even to the Lady.
“I do not ask you to do that,” she said. “But security is not just a matter of armies and weapons. It is also a matter of friendships.”
Kieri tried to imagine being friends with the king of Pargun and failed. “I understand that,” he said. “Yet the Pargunese and Tsaians have been enemies for a very long time.”
“And you are not Tsaian. This is a chance for a new relationship, Grandson. Do not waste it.” She rose and was out of the room before he could say more, withdrawing her light.
Kieri looked at his Squires, both of whom looked alarmed. “I have been scolded,” he said. “And perhaps she has the right of it.”
“The elves always want peace, Sir King,” Edrin said. “And peace is a good thing; nobody questions that. But sometimes … sometimes it just can’t be.”
“They can withdraw to the elvenhomes,” Panin said. “It’s easy for them to avoid conflict.”
“They are as the gods made them,” Kieri said. “After a lifetime of war, I am finding that I, too, yearn for peace. And I don’t think it’s entirely my elven blood.”
“Yet every day you find time for sword practice,” Edrin said.
“Of course,” Kieri said. “Wanting peace does not bring it … and if trouble comes, a king or a realm must be prepared.” He stretched, and stood. “Besides—I like swordwork. It’s like riding, that way—it forces concentration, and thus opens up the world. But now, it’s time to return, before someone thinks I’ve fallen asleep.”