by S. K. Alden
That horrible voice...taunting and raging...
By everything sacred, he wished this would end. He wanted to never feel the pain and fire of the curse again, never hear himself screaming in agony.
On the minus side, it would all be back, same time next year...on the anniversary of his mother’s murder by the nàmhid’s Night Dragon, when the swipe of a dragontail had forever changed his life.
On the plus side, he was apparently off the Albankeep marriage proposal list.
Stones, yes.
Gill had stopped snoring.
"You're awake," Gill said.
"Mmm."
"Better?"
Kirin nodded. "Just...wrung out. Brain feels itchy."
"You say that every year."
Neither of them moved, comfortable as they were.
"You can go sleep in your own bed, you know," Kirin said, referring to a long standing joke between them that dated back to the time when he was little Hannik's age and afraid of lightning storms.
"What, you think my Lady Wife's going to be jealous?"
Kirin snorted. "Your Lady Wife appreciates the break."
"That's what you know about wives, little brother." After a moment he changed the subject. "Remind me to find that infernal marriage proposal and rip it to shreds."
"Hand it to me and I'll do it for you," Kirin murmured.
"And I swear if I don't see one from that healer lass before the end of the week, I'm writing it for her myself."
—-
At mid-morning three days later, an item on the King's consent calendar required Kirin's presence in the King's Hall. It was the usual day set aside for court proceedings, attended by all of the councilors, many of the leading families, and the usual collection of onlookers. If they were all remarkably formal and polite, Kirin chalked it up to the fact that negotiations had successfully wrapped the day before (the King of Albankeep having survived and voted from his bed) rather than the feeling that people were suddenly more mindful of their King's temper and their desires to keep their necks unbroken.
Predictably, Kirin had resumed his duties quickly, his strength returning as soon as Midwinter’s Day passed. So when the item was called, Kirin rose to stand at his place beside his brother, ready for anything.
A small contingent of warriors approached the dais, along with Nÿr, flanked by Dugfus, the trio of his nephews, and surprisingly, both Garbhan and Allon. Kirin realized they were all acting as her guardians and representatives.
Dugfus stepped forward, made the formal greetings, then presented his matter to the King. "I bring a petition, my Lord, on behalf of the Lady Nÿr, our distant relation through the line of Eathom Firstfather’s youngest daughter’s marriage into Skyrange, as I understand it.” He nodded, clearly enjoying the chance to address the King in assembly.
Kirin raised his eyebrows.
"Duly noted. Please continue," Gill prompted.
Dugfus smiled, bowed, smiled again, and drew out a document and opened it. He seemed to have added many decorative seals and ribbons and he nodded apologetically as he went. Next to him, arms folded, Garbhan actually rolled his eyes. Finally done, Dugfus took a breath.
Kirin wondered what kind of document could be so complex.
"I present," Dugfus managed an ornate bow, "A marriage petition from my distant cousin, the Lady Nÿr, to the family of Prince Kirin of Snowmount."
Kirin saw his brother pause a moment, then nod for Dugfus to go on, adopting a very serious expression. It wouldn't do to look as if he had anticipated this, though Kirin had to carefully avoid looking at Garbhan and stop from rolling his eyes himself at the absurd dance they were all doing. Why couldn't the two involved just agree and have done?
Across the room, he saw Dugfus looking from the document in his hand to Nÿr, and then back. "Is this really...?" he whispered to her. Beside him, Nÿr simply nodded and tilted her head as if to say get on with it. Garbhan looked ready to growl in her defense.
Kirin frowned, not quite sure what the question could be. Marriage petitions were all about the Lady's Choice and the lads couldn't gainsay it. That was the point.
Then Dugfus cleared his throat. "The proposal at hand..." he glanced at Nÿr again, who only raised an eyebrow at him, backed by Garbhan's glower. Dugfus nodded, dithered, and then seemed to steel himself. "Invokes a courtship year, of a time not to exceed twelve months, with the necessary codicils and addendums stipulating conditions for my lady's continued studies toward her achievement of Full Physician status..." Dugfus looked uncertain at this point, glanced at Nÿr, then seemed to feel he'd said enough and finished by looking back at the King and saying, "Et cetera." He held out the document, ribbons flapping, for the Court Clerk to take as if fully expecting the King's temper to flare.
Kirin blinked, wondering if he'd heard that correctly. But he kept his mouth closed. Tradition stipulated that the intendeds did not speak. He could only look at his brother and trust Gill's legal experience to sort this out.
But his brother had raised his eyebrows and appeared just as taken aback.
Lady Maeg saved the moment. "My Lord?" she stepped to her husband's side.
Gill nodded. "Please," he said, looking more like he was tossing her a hot rivet in panic rather than the right to speak.
Lady Maeg held an old, leather bound book and opened it to a particular page. She pointed to one entry as she handed it to the Clerk. "The Lady is within her rights," the Queen stated clearly. "The late Lord Connal once shared this with me—it is the law relating to the original privilege given to the daughters of the First Ones: the right of a courtship period, by the end of which a Lady could reject the lad to whom she has proposed should he prove unacceptable."
Gill looked affronted, and his response was sharp. “Kirin is descended from the First Ones of both Snowmount and Grauvale. He is not unacceptable.”
Kirin stayed still. In fact, the entire court held its breath. Gill's frowning glare didn't bode well for his temper.
Lady Maeg made a graceful curtsey to accede the point. "It simply allows time for the intendeds to get to know each other and prove their compatibility. It is seen as a more genteel path even if it’s outdated," she added. "But in fact, our own daughter, the Princess Iri, will have the option of this right when it comes time for her to make her own Choice."
Kirin watched his brother blink, then sit back. After a moment he looked more comfortable with the idea, put into that context.
The slightly accusing look Gill exchanged with his Lady Wife couldn't have said how come I never got that chance? more clearly than if he'd said it aloud.
Kirin suppressed a grin and looked across the room at Nÿr. She was brilliant. This was perfect.
Shyly, she looked up and met his gaze. Her expression seemed to him one part apology, but the other part was her own independent sureness. Her life goals were her own, and he suddenly knew that a big part of what attracted him was her strong, un-assuming self-confident spirit of purpose. She had her own ideas about what her life would be and was not the kind who would set that aside for anyone.
Not even a Prince.
Let alone a kid from Grauvale.
And truthfully, neither of them would be happy if she did, him most of all. He wanted her to be his equal and have her own status, self-earned. The fact that she was cneasaí instead of a warrior bothered him not at all. In fact, it made her his perfect opposite.
Kirin found himself trying not to smile.
He became aware of his brother watching him. He turned to meet Gill's eyes, and they didn't need to speak in order to understand each other.
Gill arched an eyebrow at him as if to say, Well, at least it's a step in the right direction. Kirin just stood firm.
Gill rose to address the court, his usual placid nature re-asserting itself. "Very well. May the record show that I accept a petition from the family of Lady Nÿr on behalf of my brother, Prince Kirin of Snowmount. Prince Kirin," he called in the formal manner. "May I present the
Lady Nÿr, to whom we have consented to..." he paused, searching for an alternate phrase to the usual words. "A courtship year."
Kirin smiled gently and stepped forward, eyes set on the simple beauty of the tall healer lass with the perfect, clear eyes and the long, single raven-black braid.
He placed one hand over his heart.
"My Lady," he said, bowing deeply. "I am honored.
Epilogue
"I hear congratulations are finally in order for you, lad," old Drustan’s merry eyes sparkled as he rolled up a stack of sketches and drawings from the large table in the Stonesmith's planning chambers.
Kirin smiled and shouldered a leather scroll case in the place where he normally carried a quiver of arrows. Overall, he was amazed at how happy the people of Snowmount were about the news that Lady Nÿr had chosen him...not for marriage, but for a courtship year.
"Who'd have thought, huh?" he said, shy and proud at the same time.
Drustan sidled up to him. "No more bachelor life, though." He tsked. "But what I don't understand is why the wait? Lassies generally want to get on with it..." He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head.
Kirin laughed. "It's not the usual way, is it? I'm all for it, though. I mean, we'd really only just met and it feels better this way."
"What he means," Old Garbhan hobbled up. "Is his brother wanted him out of the running, but no lassie in her right mind was going to take the risk." He winked and grabbed Drustan’s shoulder for support as he walked past.
Drustan laughed again. "But what I wonder, though, is this: what do you do? Exactly?" He made a face. "Courtship? What does that even mean?"
Kirin had to admit he was a little uncertain on that point himself. "Just...get to know her," he said, turning his old friend toward the door. "Find out what makes her happy...help her out."
Drustan stared, even as he walked for the door, looking at the Kirin as if he was nuts. "But how's that going to get you any action in the sack? I mean, that's the point, isn't it?"
Kirin made a face as if amused but not willing to go further. But in fact, he was at odds with himself on this matter: on one hand, he wanted to show his love gently and with reverence...on the other, he had an ingrained urge to claim her with all his strength and passion. That one night in a snow cave was not his idea of romantic pleasure and he was keen to prove that he could do better. "I am...not discussing this with you," he laughed at Drustan, shaking his head. He patted his old friend on the back and waved his farewell as he left.
But as he strode from the Stonesmith's meeting, he knew that Drustan had a point. What exactly was a courtship and what was he supposed to be doing to prove his worth?
Fact was, the announcement was made, everyone had raised a glass at the big post-negotiations feast...and then she went back to cneasaí training and he went back to commanding the Snowmount Guard and attending all the meetings that his brother didn't have time for.
And there was nothing romantic about that. Not a thing.
But tonight he had a plan. A good one. At least he hoped it was good. He'd gone over it with his brother that morning, who approved the idea, but then carefully wouldn't predict its success.
"You're on your own, there. Not even going to guess." He'd given Kirin a shake of the head and then slapped him on the back and sauntered off.
So Kirin was feeling out on a limb all by himself.
As he left the meeting room, others passed by with polite nods of respect, dispersing quickly down halls and up stairways. The discussions had been long, and many of them were overdue for their supper.
Kirin strode to the main hall, then went left at a turn and down a little-used side ramp. Two turns later, he entered one of the busy merchant halls. He scanned the crowd, then spotted Skirfir, out of uniform but casually standing watch at a busy three-way intersection, a pair of crutches helping him keep his weight off his mending leg.
"Doing better today?" Kirin asked, eyeing the lad's complicated splint. Skirf's leg had been causing him a lot of pain—a problem for which Kirin had great sympathy.
Skirf managed a smile. "Yes, sir. My Lady Cneasaí prescribed sleeping tea..."
"Your Lady Cneasaí,” Kirin snorted in jest.
Skirfir grinned. He seemed quite pleased that his Commander had been Chosen. But before he could say anything more, an off-duty page came around a corner, obviously looking for Skirf, and skidded to a halt, bowing quickly to his Prince.
"Speak, lad," Skirfir prompted.
"Sir. The granauga has just left the Elder's Hall," he reported.
Kirin raised an eyebrow at the old ceilte word. They've set up a watch and given her a code-name? He suppressed a grin, realizing they'd used a word that meant green for her beautiful eyes. He approved Skirf's initiative and found the complexity a bit amusing.
And he wasn't about to argue with success.
"Thanks, lad." Skirfir nodded to the page, sending him off. Then he winked at Kirin, who certainly knew how to put field intelligence to good use.
Kirin's hand on Skirf's shoulder conveyed his appreciation of the news. "Get some dinner and a good night's rest," he said in a low voice. "And raise a flagon for my luck." He made a serious face and Skirfir blushed—but the lad also looked eager for his commander to succeed.
Kirin didn't waste time. He headed for the Great Hub. Criss-crossed with open-air walkways and lined with great flights of stone stairs, the inner core of Snowmount glowed with a beautiful light from a thousand copper lanterns, and it literally buzzed with people at this time of day. He nodded and smiled as warriors, lads and maidens alike, recognized him and offered smiles or quick greetings.
But he wasn't looking to get distracted. He was looking for Nÿr. Tall and slender, his intended would be dressed in healer blue and carrying her cneasaí satchel, and if he knew her, at least one (if not more) medical tomes. If she had just left the Elder's Hall, she should be heading back to the student dorms...
He finally spotted her on a lower ramp and quickly took a shortcut down. He came up behind her, dodging a group of merchants.
"Nÿr!" he called, striding forward.
She turned, and he caught up, catching her hand in his.
Her smile was serene, lovely, and just for him. He leaned forward for a quick (and properly chaste) kiss. His warrior's heart had the sudden urge for more, but of course not here...not in public.
"Busy day?" she asked, a happy twinkle in her eye.
"Very," he rolled his eyes and hiked his shoulder to show the scroll case. "Renovation planning. My brother always says the Nàmhid Years were less than twenty, but it will take us twice that to repair the place—mostly because everybody has to argue every point at least five times."
"So...you're brokering negotiations." Nÿr suppressed a smile.
"Exactly. The miners want to re-open the north spur of the silverlode shaft, the Stonesmiths want a year to shore up the mine entry, and all the Crafthall Master wants is twice as much silver ore as soon as he can get it." He smiled at the luck of having that kind of problem over fears of imminent attack. "And you?"
"Eight cases of gout, three head wounds, and two births."
"Two?" Kirin's face lit up. The people of Snowmount were thriving again and an uptick in new babies proved it. "That's...what, eleven this week?"
"Fifteen. One dozen lads and three lassies."
Kirin loved how her face always glowed with a quiet pride when she talked about the newborns. Inwardly, it fed the fire of his need to prove himself to her.
Easy, lad.
"You must be exhausted," he said.
"A little." Then her smile disappeared.
"What?"
"I have hours of studying to do tonight," she looked apologetic. "Group exam tomorrow at mid-day."
Kirin tried not to look disappointed.
"It wouldn't be so bad," she went on, "Except we have a new class of beginner lasses who," she looked away as if struggling for a diplomatic description. "Are quite young. There's far more chat
ter and silliness going on in our quarters than actual studying."
Kirin grinned. "Then it's a good thing I found you." He reached inside his jacket and pulled out an odd, old key on a blue silk cord. "Are you up for a surprise?"
She raised a skeptical eyebrow, though she was clearly interested. "Only if it involves three hours of reviewing burn treatments." She hiked up the large tome she carried in the crook of her arm as evidence.
Kirin adopted his most serious face. "On my honor, I promise." He held the key out to her, brassy and bright in the palm of his hand.
They stopped on the stairway landing and Nÿr took the key, considering it. Finally, she looked up with a quirky smile on her face.
"And where is the door?" she teased.
That was all the answer he needed. He grabbed her hand and headed for the Halls of Learning, not so far from the cneasaí dorm and the training infirmary where Nÿr spent many of her hours.
But once they reached the busy halls, Kirin passed by the well-used main corridors, looking instead for something else. At a six-way intersection, he stopped and pulled her forward.
"This," he said, nodding to an old carving in blue stone. "Is the statue of Joadmund the Apothecary."
Nÿr nodded. "Yes, I know. He wrote The Basic Book of Simples."
"But that," Kirin said, turning her left toward a nondescript passage that looked like it led to a cleaner's closet. "...is where we're going.” He lowered his voice. “But since we don't want everyone noticing...or worse, following," they exchanged a significant look. "We need to wait for a moment until the halls are clear."
So they stood next to Joadmund's statue and feigned interest in it, and after waiting several minutes, found an opportunity when no one would see them slip inside the little passage.
Together they followed the lamp-lit, narrow corridor around three sharp corners and up two short staircases, leading quickly to a single, very old carved stone door.
Nÿr stared. She could see no keyhole in the usual place.
Kirin pointed to a stone sigil in the center. "There," he whispered.
