He awoke to the sound of his name. “Roric! What are you doing here?”
He sat up abruptly. Early morning sun came through the small window. One of the warriors who had accompanied King Hadros leaned on his elbow next to him. “I didn’t see you last night! Did you come back while we were gone? Did you really meet the Wanderers?”
“Can you see me?” Roric demanded.
“Of course I can see you,” with a laugh.
So he was back. The lords of voima only knew what had happened to him, but at least it was over. He jumped up. “I have to talk to the king, find out more about this marriage between Valmar and the Princess Karin.”
“I can probably tell you more than Hadros is likely to.” Roric sat down again slowly. “You know he always treated the princess very delicately, as though even her ears were made out of glass. Not that he minded her doing all the work to direct his household! But she seems to have decided to take matters into her own hands as soon as she was out of the kingdom. I’d heard, of course, of sovereign queens with a whole string of lovers, who still profess their purity and keep serious suitors dangling, but I’d never believed it before.”
“But what happened?” asked Roric through cold lips. This could not be Karin they were discussing.
“The second night we were there, she took young Valmar with her on a ride up into the hills and did not come back until the next morning. I saw them when they returned, and I don’t think there can be much doubt what happened,” with a chuckle.
Roric kept his hand from his knife by sheer will.
“I think King Hadros moved fast to make sure his son wasn’t just one more in a string of lovers, by getting her to agree to their marriage. But I don’t think he’s made a formal offer to her father yet; that’s why we have to go back in a few weeks. If you come along, you’ll see for yourself.
“But what about you?” the man added. “Was that really someone with no back? And where did you go?”
But Roric was no longer there. He went down the ladder in one long jump and strode across the courtyard. Since Valmar was not yet of age, he had not yet sworn himself to him, and no oath would keep him from killing him.
Roric had almost forgotten his own voyage to the Wanderers’ realm in the news about Karin, and he was not prepared for the stunned face Hadros turned on him when he interrupted the king in the middle of his porridge and beer.
“No, of course I did not run away,” he said quickly. “I’ve been in the land of the Wanderers, though it turned out it was not a Wanderer who summoned me. But I intend to leave this kingdom now to cross the channel, and I ask to be freed of my loyalty to you.”
The king stared at him as though he had not understood a word, then very slowly began to smile. “Both Valmar and Karin tried to persuade me you had gone with the Wanderers, that the lords of voima might really take a personal interest in people like you and me. Perhaps I should have believed them.” He reached out abruptly to clap Roric on the shoulder. “How does it feel to be a warrior of voima out of the oldest tales?”
“No, you do not understand,” said Roric. “One thing I did learn in the land of the immortals is that they are not creatures of honor and glory-or at least not the ones I was with. I never spoke with the Wanderers themselves. There is much more purpose in life here as a mortal than there could ever be in that realm.”
“Are you sure you were not hiding in the woods this whole time?” asked the king with a gleam in his eye, as though not quite daring to believe him.
“No, of course not! I shall tell you all about that realm some day-the fields are rich with grain, and the sun never sets. But right now I am going to Kardan’s kingdom.”
“Of course you can accompany me when I go in a few weeks. I need to start assembling suitable betrothal gifts.”
This was becoming as frustrating as trying to talk to the beings of the “third force.” “I am going now, ” said Roric as distinctly as he could. “I would prefer you to release me from my oath before I go so that I can swear myself to Karin’s service, but if you do not I shall go anyway.”
“And why are you so eager to go there now?” Hadros asked suspiciously.
Roric was not about to tell the king he intended to kill his oldest son, but at this point he scarcely cared if he guessed. “Because I love Karin.”
“Out!” roared the king to the others in the hall, who had been following the conversation with intrigued expressions. “All of you, out!” They fled in panic, and Hadros jumped up to slam the door after them.
The hall was dim now, lit only by the smoke-hole and the small windows up in the eaves. Hadros sat down again, favoring one leg and breathing hard.
“You came to me with this nonsense last month. I told you then to forget the whole idea, that Karin would not wed a fatherless man.”
“And you were furious enough,” said Roric, still standing, his hand on his hilt, “that you told Gizor you would not mind if I was dead.”
Hadros started to jump up again, then changed his mind. “Threatening you has not, it appears, taught you sense,” he said with steely calm, but then for a second Roric thought he smiled. “Sit down so we can face each other at eye level.”
When Roric sat down cautiously at the far end of the bench, the king continued, “You are my sworn man, and I am your sworn lord. Gizor overreacted to something I said in anger. Let us not allow that princess make either of us kill the other.”
“I love ‘that princess.’ You tell me a man without a father should not aspire so high, but she loves me herself. A princess can marry any man she chooses.”
King Hadros was still breathing hard. “Maybe you did not hear,” he said quietly, as though not wanting his words to carry outside the hall. “She has taken Valmar for her lover.” Roric shut his eyes for a second to try to stay calm but did not interrupt. “I could not allow Valmar, any more than you, to speak to her while she was still a hostage here, because it was my responsibility to send her home to her father as pure and unfettered as she came to me. He paid the tribute faithfully each year, and I do not war on girls.
“But now- Now that she is a royal heiress and home again, she can make her own decisions. She has many better men to choose from than a warrior without kin. And she has chosen my son.”
Roric clenched his fists. “If you told him- If you told him to take her by the strong hand, then even if I am your sworn man, I-”
King Hadros snorted, and Roric caught again that very fleeting, very strange expression, almost as though the king was pleased. “Not at all. I think it was her idea. Forget her, lad! Do not waste your strength thinking of women. Think instead of this.
“Valmar can afford to marry young. He shall be king here someday, unless that new bride of his leads him such a merry chase that I outlive him! But you, Roric, you cannot tie yourself down. You have grown into the most formidable of my warriors, but you need to use that power to win a realm for yourself. You know you have the strength and the voima within you to be as good a lord as most of the Fifty Kings.”
Roric glanced at him from under his eyebrows; Hadros looked concerned now, even fatherly. “Wisdom, they say, is for old men,” Roric said slowly, “but action is for the young. But I can’t just act as a housecarl or even dependent warrior after you brought me up as your foster-son, and I also can’t act like a man with a family behind him. So what do you wisely recommend?”
“There are always thrones to be won by the valorous,” said Hadros. “Several of the Fifty Kingdoms sent no one to the Gemot this year, and I am sure even now there are second sons preparing their warships to see if the region might be ready for a new lord.”
“I had thought,” said Roric bitterly, “that the lords of voima might have a place for me.”
“That too,” said Hadros quickly. “Now, if you want a ship of your own the best I can do is lend you one of mine, and I’ll let you have a few warriors. How would you like Gizor One-hand?”