"And who's to blame her?" Grisella said sympathetically. "Surely she's had enough grief and worry to drive a lesser woman mad. Don't worry, sir. We'll take good care of her."
Thus reassured, Royance went to his own quarters. But his heart remained sorely troubled.
Ashen awoke from the drug-induced slumber with her head surprisingly clear. She had to remind herself of the events of the previous day.
"Obern is really dead, isn't he?" she asked Ayfare.
"Aye, lady, that he is, and young Rohan is inconsolable. He was there, you know, and saw it all."
"No, I don't remember. My attention was ail on Obern." She pushed the covers back and got out of bed. Though still weak, she knew that she was mending. "When
I am dressed, send Rohan to me. I will do what I can to comfort him."
"Aye, lady, I will. Now let me bring you food, and perhaps enlighten you on what has happened while you were asleep."
Ashen sat down at the small table in her room, the one that had been set up for her while she had been so very ill, and began eating the breakfast of fruit and fresh-baked bread Ayfare had brought. She set aside a few pieces of fruit that she knew Rohan liked, hoping to tempt him with it. The maid chattered on, as usual a veritable fount of information.
The Old Dowager, it was said, had taken to the wine bottle. But nobody believed this was a lasting thing; she had had too much experience with what it did to both her husband and her son. It was, instead, the way her grief came out because she had never cared for King Florian. His widow grieved in private, but his latest mistress was indiscreet enough to let her own feelings show to one and all. And other women, who had had liaisons with the King, were now coming forward as if hoping for some largesse in the King's will—
In the midst of this, a thought struck Ashen. "With all this dis-cussion of this lady and that," she said, as neutrally as she could, "do you likewise speak of me when you are with the other maids?"
Ayfare put her hands to her mouth, shocked. "Of course not, lady! But others will talk, and sometimes, if there's no harm in it, I will give them the straight of the story. But to chatter idly of you? I would never betray you.
Never."
"Thank you for that. Now help me get dressed, and send Rohan in to see me."
She offered him the dish of fruit when he had been brought in and given a footstool to sit on. "Thank you, lady," he said. Politely, he took a slice of pear and nibbled on it.
They spoke of inconsequential things for a while, and then he asked, "What's to become of me now?"
Ashen thought a moment. The lad was truly an orphan, with neither father nor mother living, his only blood relative the Chieftain of the Sea-Rovers who seemed entirely indifferent to him or any other child. "What would you like?" she said.
"If I could have my way, I would like to live with you," he replied. "But that probably won't happen."
"It will if I say it will," Ashen told him. "With the exception of Zazar, the
Wysen-wyf of the Bog, I don't have anybody, either, for my family is long since dead with only a few distant relatives who have never heard of me, or I them."
He thought about that. "So mostly, what we have, is each other. Right?"
"Yes. And that means there isn't anybody to tell us no."
"Then that is settled. Now may I go out? I would like to be alone for a while, or perhaps with Lathrom, if you don't mind. He was my father's friend, and he is sad, too."
"Of course you shall be with Lathrom. You are a good boy to think of others at a time like this."
Rohan walked to the door, his pace unlike his usual energetic bounding, but not before taking another piece of fruit. Ashen watched him go. He would, she thought, be all right. But would she? Suddenly she realized that there were many people depending on her—not only Rohan, but Lathrom as well, and the men he commanded. Ayfare. The future yawned before her, and what it held she could not even begin to imagine.
Perhaps she would return to the Bog. But then, with Rohan now her ward, this would be no place for him, not to mention the others in her care. She did not look forward to going back to New Void, for the customs and manners of the
Sea-Rovers were not to her liking, but the prospect of staying on in Rendelsham, at the castle, was even less inviting to the point of being intolerable. Worst of all was the possibility that she would be bidden to go to stay with Harous.
He had only been turned aside from courting her because of the Dowager's orders, and Lady Marcala would not welcome her presence.
Well, she didn't have to face it just yet. There were still the funerals to get through, and she was not entirely healed. But once all that was past her, she must begin considering what she was going to do with her life.
She did not want to think about the fact that her mourning for Obern was little deeper than what one would feel for the loss of a dear friend. Certainly not the abject grief that a loving widow was expected to display. She resolved to go and comfort Rannore. Surely these two women, caught as they had been in marriages that were less than ideal, would find much to say to one another.
Two days later, Rendelsham saw two state funerals, great and elaborate to have been arranged so swiftly. Ashen retrieved the Rinbell sword, Rohan's inheritance, and Obem was buried instead with the weapon Harous had given him.
Florian was buried with the jeweled sword which had been decently cleansed of the poison that had once edged the blade. Both coffins were bolted shut, and then put into the royal crypt.
A week after, a message came from the Old Dowager, summoning Ashen. At the hour past noon she was to present herself in the Dowager's sitting room. Ashen left her apartment early, to pay a call on the Young Dowager, as she was already being called. Ran-nore received her warmly enough, but her eyes were red and it was plain she had been weeping. It quickly became clear to Ashen that she was not weeping solely for Florian.
"Royal widows are the most useless commodity on earth," she told Ashen. "Not like royal wards, such as you. Who is there who is of high-enough station to marry me? Who will be a father to my child?" She put her hand on her belly. "Who will protect me from the warring political factions that are even now forming?
Some of Florian's followers—well, let us just say that they are up to no good for anyone but themselves. Once my babe is born—"
"If only I could offer you help," Ashen said. "But I, too, am tossed by the wind and I do not know which direction it will take me."
Rannore caught her hand. "I am sure Ysa has something in mind for you. But I do not know what it is. It may be good, and maybe not, according to her whim.
Please, whatever happens, say that you will be my friend."
"Of course I will," Ashen told the other girl. "There are never enough true friends in this world, and I am happy to have you for mine."
Then, the hour past noon rapidly approaching, she had to take her leave.
She found the Dowager alone, for once. Immediately Ashen was on her guard, for
Ysa was always in the company of someone— a maid, one or more of her court ladies, Lady Marcala. "I am here, as you commanded, Your Highness," she said.
"Come closer. Sit by me."
Even at that distance, Ashen could tell that Ayfare's gossip had been correct.
The scent of wine was heavy on Ysa's breath, but she seemed to be in control of herself even if her manner was considerably more blunt than usual. Ashen took the chair opposite Ysa's, beside the fireplace.
The Dowager leaned forward. "What would you say," she said in a confidential voice, "if I told you that you were to marry Count Gaurin? That it is my command that you do so."
It had to be a dream. Ashen's heart lurched and soared upward. As if she needed to be forced-—
She shocked herself with her eagerness. Propriety demanded that a decent interval elapse between Obern's death and her marrying again. "Surely we should allow a period of mourning," she began. "And Gaurin has not been consulted."
"To the cont
rary, he has. I sent word to him. He is even now on his way back to
Rendel with his followers. He knows that the situation here has changed drastically. I told him you were now free and that I desired to make alliance with his people by a marriage between you. The answer was that he would make all possible speed, and be here within two days to take your hand. He is quite eager, but do not think too highly of yourself; it is not entirely because of you. The fleeing Nordors must have a place of their own, according to the preliminary treaty I have made with them. Therefore I want you married, and
Gaurin with his Nordors settled in the Oakenkeep, a fortnight later. All the revenues excepting the Crown's share go to you. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Your Highness." Ashen's lips were numb and she had to force the words out.
"Perfectly clear."
Ysa peered at Ashen closely. "Is there something wrong? Do you not desire this marriage? Surely, from what I observed at your last wedding—"
Ashen's face grew hot. "Your Highness, I—"
"Don't try to dissemble with me, girl. I saw you. And I know that you had enough honor to go through with the bargain you had made. But now, when I offer you what your heart must desire, you balk? Why?"
"Your Highness mentioned honor. I cannot honor Obern by marrying another when he is barely in his tomb."
"Very fine of you, I'm sure. If you like, it can be a quiet, very private wedding. But marry Gaurin you will, and there's an end to it." Ysa abruptly turned away, picking up the cup of wine on the table beside her.
"Yes, Your Highness." Plainly, the audience was over.
Ashen arose from her chair, bowed, and returned to her apartment. There she lay down on her bed, stunned. Ayfare, as usual, knew all about it beforehand. Ashen wondered if the maid had some way of finding out everything that went on in the castle before the people involved were fully aware of it. She chattered happily, already planning the wedding.
"Your late husband, Obern, was a good man and no mistake, and he loved you well in his own way, rough though it was at times. But you two were not a good match any more than the Young Dowager and the late King were, more's the pity. And she doesn't even have a lover waiting to marry her, either."
"Ayfare!"
"Oh, yes, lady, I know. There was never anything between you and Count Gaurin.
But he was your lover nonetheless."
Ashen let the maid talk on, without hearing her. Gaurin and she, wed. And the
Oakenkeep hers as well. Just a few days earlier, she had been worrying how she would take care of all the people who had come to depend on her.
Gaurin arrived at Rendelsham Castle in even less time than promised. He must have pushed his men hard, to cut his journey so short. As commanded, he made his way to the Great Hall where Ysa, Royance, Rannore, and several members of the
Council, Harous among them, waited with Ashen. Harous's face was hard to read.
If he had hoped to renew his suit for Ashen now that Obern was gone, he was disappointed. However, he showed nothing of what he might have been thinking.
Lady Marcala, who usually was as much a part of Harous as the weapon he bore at his side as the Lord High Marshal of Rendel, was conspicuously absent.
The doors opened, and Gaurin, followed by half a dozen of his men, entered, his cloak swirling about him as he strode forward.
Ashen could not help drawing in her breath at the sight of him. Like the rest of the court, he had dressed in mourning, but his face was not sad. Indeed, his features became almost radiant when he caught sight of Ashen.
The Old Dowager gave greetings to the man from the North. "And what news do you bring us?" she said.
"The Great Evil, of which we as yet know little, is preparing to move. It has sent out tendrils seeking knowledge beyond where it has been pent-up for so many years. When it thinks it is strong enough, it will come."
"But not this year?"
"No. And not the next, we can hope. But it will come."
"With your help, we will be prepared for it. Now we shall consider happier matters." Ysa turned to Ashen and beckoned her to come forward. "To cement the ties between your people and ours, will you, Count Gaurin of the Nordors, please state openly before this company that you are willing to marry our late King's half-sister, who is now a widow."
He reached out and clasped her hand. "With all my heart," he said.
"And you, Ashen, royal lady of Rendel," continued the Old Dowager, who, according to Ayfare, had resumed her sober ways, "please state before this company that you are willing to marry Count Gaurin of the Nordors."
She wanted to shout aloud, but refrained. To display the eagerness she felt would honor neither her nor her late husband's memory. "You have commanded me, and so I agree," she said in turn. She knew he could feel her trembling, for he squeezed her fingers and, lifting her hand to his lips, kissed them.
"Because we are still in mourning, it will be no great celebration," Ysa said.
"Will this content you, or would you rather wait until the mourning period is ended?"
"I would welcome any condition you might set, as long as Ashen can be mine.
Within the hour if possible."
"Then go we all to the Fane of the Glowing, for a priest awaits you there."
Without further ado, they all left the Great Hall and walked the short distance to the Fane. By Ashen's request, Esander, the priest who had befriended her, awaited. As the great ones of Rendel looked on, Esander took Ashen's and
Gaurin's hands in his and, in the simplest of ceremonies, married them.
Twelve
It was not Ashen's opinion alone that Rohan was an engaging young man, bright and attractive. His fears about his future when his father died proved groundless. Before Obern's body had cooled, Count Harous had petitioned for the boy to go into his household as a page, but both the Lady Marcala and the Old
Dowager had firmly disagreed with this plan. Even Royance admitted taking an interest in Rohan and likewise offered his household, but again his offer was discouraged.
Ashen could easily understand why Lady Marcala and the Dowager wanted to keep
Rohan from Harous; this would have created a tie between the Count and Ashen, and that, Marcala would not abide. But Royance's offer of favor held many bright prospects for a parentless youngster. Gossip had it that the Old Dowager was unwilling that her Head of the Council have in his household what amounted to a hostage who could be turned to her own advantage, and that she could not abide.
Then, to Ashen's surprise and Rohan's as well, a message came from Snolli
Sea-Rover while she was still at Rendelsham, bidding her bring the boy to New
Void.
"What can this mean?" she asked Gaurin.
"It seems that our great Chieftain has belatedly realized that young Rohan is now the heir to the Sea-Rovers," he said. "We must go to New Void."
"I will not give Rohan up to be reared as a—a near-savage!"
"He has done well enough, being reared as a savage, up until now," Gaurin pointed out. "And Obern as well. I confess, if it hadn't been for his being your husband I would have liked him."
"I grew not to like the Sea-Rovers while I lived among them. Compared to
Bog-men, they were civilized. But their ways are not ours."
"Well, we will settle the matter. Return a message to Snolli, telling him that we will be in New Void as soon as we have established ourselves in the
Oakenkeep. That should keep him satisfied for the time being."
They got no answering summons, telling them to come at once, and so Ashen and
Gaurin moved from Rendelsham to the Oaken-keep. The castle was situated on a spit of land where the River Rendel and the Rowan joined. A channel had been cut to create an island on which the Oakenkeep floated secure from attack from any but the most determined enemy. The outer walls did not look massive, but within, the keep itself boasted twin gatehouses and ample room to house many Nordors and their families
with them. It was dirty and had fallen into some measure of disrepair, and so Gaurin engaged masons and glaziers to repair the walls and to install new windows in place of the ruined shutters. For several weeks, the air smelled of fresh mortar and of the strong soap used to scrub all clean once more.
The Nordors whom Gaurin had brought as refugees from the gathering forces in the
North were absorbed easily into the vast living quarters, and also Lathrom and his men. Generously, Gaurin offered Lathrom the captaincy of the guard at the
Andre Norton - Oak, Yew, Ash & Rowan 2 - Knight Or Knave Page 16
