“And he made the wrong one!”
Sioned gritted her teeth in exasperation. “What do you think Cabar would do if Rohan gave her over to you? What would you do if Cabar was allowed to decide her punishment? Use your brains, Andry! Rohan’s laws provide the only sure justice. That’s his duty as High Prince.”
Andry met her gaze coldly. “His duty. His laws. His power. Just exactly the way he likes it.”
“You don’t understand him at all, do you?”
“I understand him perfectly. I’ve watched him lead the other princes around by the nose every chance he gets. He loves to exercise his power as High Prince and there’s no use pretending he doesn’t. And he’s as jealous of those powers as—”
“When has Rohan ever acted arbitrarily? When has he ever done anything simply because he felt like it? You’ve watched him at work for two Riall’im since Andrade died. You’re right, he uses every trick he has to bring the princes to agreement. But have you ever considered why?”
He shrugged. “It amuses him, I suppose. Very well, Sioned, read me the lecture. I’m a little old for the schoolroom, but we won’t quibble about it.”
She controlled her temper with an effort. “Punishment for crimes—even the definitions of crimes—used to make no sense at all. There were two dozen laws about horse theft and Goddess alone knew how many penalties, depending on whose horse was stolen and what it was worth and how long it was in the thief s possession—Rohan studied law all his life, and he couldn’t follow all the ins and outs of such chaos. His work has been to organize all the confusion. Every Rialla he hacks away at it a little more, persuading the other princes to agree to one law and just punishment. Law is now associated with him. As High Prince it’s his responsibility to arbitrate—”
“And why shouldn’t the laws have his name on them? It’s only the reality. His laws, Sioned—his power.”
“The duties of the High Prince haven’t changed. Rohan hasn’t done anything Roelstra couldn’t have done if he’d been so inclined. But because Rohan does so much through the law that affects people’s everyday lives, it’s perceived that his power is the greater.”
“It is greater. He uses it.”
“That’s exactly what he doesn’t do.”
“Then let him prove it. Let him not use this so-called right he has over Sunrunners, and give judgment to me, where it belongs.”
Her patience snapped. “Where you’d like all power to belong, isn’t that so, Andry? How dare you prate about traditions when you’ve tossed them aside without a thought! How dare you accuse Rohan of grasping for power when it’s you who reaches out both hands! Lord of Goddess Keep will never be enough for you, will it? Don’t think I don’t know precisely what you’re up to with your emphasis on the powers of the Goddess and your change in faradhi traditions! You’re the one who’s jealous of power, Andry—especially of what will come to Pol when he’s High Prince!”
He turned white, and went as still as stone, not even breathing. Then he sent the vases crashing to the tiled floor with a violent sweep of one hand.
She heard the furious snap of his bootheels as he strode from the Great Hall, but could not watch him go.
Servants came in—silent, hesitant—to clean up shards of glass and pottery. Sioned stared down at her hands. Of all the rings she was entitled to wear, only her husband’s emerald gleamed there.
“Well, beloved,” she whispered, “I made a fine job of that, didn’t I?”
She wiped her hands on a towel and decided she’d better go upstairs and warn Rohan that because of her, Andry was one step away from becoming their open enemy.
Rohan and Pol were also discussing the ramifications of power—or, rather, Rohan was talking and Pol was listening. The events at Rivenrock and the outcome of the morning audience having been briefly recounted, they sat alone in the Summer Room.
“Nobody’s going to be made happy by this,” Rohan sighed. “It’s what usually happens when I use my authority as High Prince.”
“But there wasn’t anything else you could have done.”
“No. But that’s not how it’s going to be perceived. And perception is all, you know,” he added ruefully. “The scriptorium at New Raetia is a good example. I contracted with several princes for the physical makings—hide for parchment and bindings, ink, and so on—but I ordered each prince to provide copyists. It was the only way to reproduce the volumes at speed. I used Desert wealth to buy the materials, but I couldn’t buy the people. So I made it an order of the High Prince. And nobody approved, even though the future advantages ought to have been obvious.”
Pol said, “But by now everyone’s cooperating for the good they get from the library. The same thing will happen with the school for physicians.”
“One hopes so. Still, it’s my decision, you see. My use of power. My name that gets associated with it all.”
“It may take everyone a while to understand, but—”
“Oh, it always takes more than a while. I never deluded myself I could accomplish it all in my lifetime. Laws, in particular. How do you correct such a mess in thirty years? I could’ve decreed things and made the princes bow down to my authority. But I don’t think I would have lasted long if I’d tried. Not even Roelstra attempted to rule all the princedoms by decree.
“Almost everything I’ve done has been through the Rialla, slowly enough so no one gets too nervous. I let them thrash out an issue among themselves and mostly they end up agreeing with me. When they don’t, there’s usually something wrong with my reasoning and I have to rethink my position. As often as possible I’ve let them believe the whole thing is their idea. But I’m still High Prince. I’m the one whose name goes at the top of the parchment.”
“You’re proud of it, Father, don’t try to fool me,” Pol said with a smile.
“Of course! But that doesn’t change the fact that however much benefit comes from the laws I initiate, however careful I am to bring the other princes into the process, some still think I just wave my hand and say, ‘This shall be done because We order it so!’ ” Rohan laughed shortly. “Goddess, if it were only that easy!”
“You’re more tender of their feelings than they are of yours. And it’s not fair. You’re right almost all the time.”
“Ah, so you’re experienced enough to see that I’ve made mistakes—and impudent enough to throw them in my face!” He laughed more easily this time.
“Oh, there haven’t been that many,” Pol reassured him, grinning. “But it’s a little daunting, you know. And another reason I wouldn’t mind at all if you lived forever. You’re going to be difficult to follow.”
“Did I ever tell you I felt the same about my own father?”
“But you two were so different from each other. You always knew you couldn’t be the kind of prince he was, so you never tried to live up to what he was. I’ve always known that to be like you is the best ambition I could have.”
Rohan was absurdly flattered. “Just don’t ever start believing that you’re always right, Pol. I haven’t been—as you so ungraciously pointed out! And you won’t be, either. Listen to the other princes. Know what their prejudices are, where their self-interest lies. Don’t rule them—guide them. If you can’t present an issue in ways that satisfy them, then you’re probably acting in your own favor. And they’ll scent it as quickly as a hungry dragon does fresh game.”
He shifted in his chair and frowned. “Along the way something happened that I never intended. Roelstra projected power through his personality and the art of the well-timed whim—and the equally well-timed art of causing fights that only the High Prince could settle. He didn’t care much about the thoughts of ordinary folk. But what I’ve done touches people’s lives. And now they look to me to effect changes—with my name on them. So it seems I have more power and use it more often than is true.”