At the door, Vyrl shoved out the bar that locked it—and he barely had time to jump back as the door crashed open. Lily's burly father, Caul, stood framed in the entrance. Vyrl had one instant to see Lily's mother hurry by them before Caul grabbed him, hurled him around, and slammed him against the inside wall.
"No slime-mold dishonors my daughter," he roared, swinging his meaty fist.
Vyrl dodged in time to keep his face from being smashed, but the blow caught his shoulder and pain shot through him. Although Caul had neither Vyrl's height nor agility, years of toiling on his farm had muscled the man's already husky build. Vyrl raised his arm up in time to block Caul's next blow, but then Caul used his other fist to sock him heartily in the stomach.
Vyrl grunted and doubled up with pain, wrapping his arms over his abdomen. Lily was crying out and other voices filled the air; from seemingly nowhere, people crammed the small room. His ears rang with the commotion.
Suddenly Caul was no longer pummeling him. Vyrl gasped, but it was several moments before he could straighten up. When he did, he saw his older brothers, Althor and Del-Kurj, holding back the enraged farmer. As hard as Caul struggled, he couldn't free himself. Althor was six feet six, with a massive physique. Del-Kurj had a lankier build, lean rather than bulky, But he was still a good half-head taller than Vyrl and had plenty of strength. Caul finally gave up fighting them and glowered at Vyrl as if his stare could incinerate his new son-in-law.
Vyrl swallowed, regarding his brothers. "Thank you."
"I wouldn't be so grateful," Althor said dryly. "You're in a load of trouble."
Del-Kurj smirked at Vyrl. "Who would have guessed it. I didn't think you even knew what to do with a girl."
Vyrl scowled at him. "Go blow, Del."
Caul jerked his arms away from Althor and Del-Kurj, and this time they let him go, sensing his calmer state. To Vyrl, he growled, "I'll deal with you later."
Behind the men, Lily's mother was holding her daughter. She was an older, plumper version of Lily, maternal rather than nubile, still as pretty as Lily. Seeing her, Vyrl could imagine his wife in twenty years, and it made him love her all the more. Right now tears streaked Lily's face, making his heart ache. As much as he wanted to go to her, his brothers and Caul had him penned in the corner. From the look of Lily's mother, he doubted she would let him near her daughter anyway. Vyrl knew where Lily had inherited her stubborn side.
Althor had unhooked a palmtop from his belt and was talking into its com. "The house is about half a klick from where we landed."
The voice of Eldrinson, Vyrl's father, came out of the com. "We'll be there right away."
Caul fixed Vyrl with a baleful stare. "If I were your father, I would thrash you from here to the Tyrole plains."
Vyrl used his most respectful voice. "Good sir, I would never dishonor your daughter. Lily and I were married yesterday by a Bard in Rillia."
"Don't you give me excuses," Caul bellowed. "I'll make you sorry—" He stopped, blinking. "Married? You, a prince, marry the daughter of a farmer? You expect me to believe that?"
Vyrl didn't think this was the best time to point out that Caul was hardly treating him like a prince.
"Father, it's true." Lily was still trying to escape her mother. "Just ask the Emerald Bard."
A deep voice spoke from the doorway. "Apparently my Emerald Bard is conveniently off on a trip."
Vyrl almost groaned. As if the situation wasn't bad enough already. The last person he wanted to face right now was Lord Rillia. No, make that the second-to-last person. Facing his father was going to be even harder.
Hard or not, however, he had no choice; both his father and Lord Rillia had entered the cabin. The two men were well matched in build and coloring, though Lord Rillia had darker hair and more height. Rillia was also older, more austere, with silver streaks in his hair and an aloof dignity that had always intimidated Vyrl.
But when Vyrl saw his father's face, he felt even worse. Dark circles rimmed Eldrinson's eyes, and lines showed that hadn't been there two days before. His exhaustion seeped into the cabin. Sensing his father's mind, Vyrl realized Eldrinson had barely slept for the past two days.
"Thank the saints," a woman said, her voice catching.
Vyrl turned with a start. His mother, Roca Skolia, stood in the doorway, her usual brightness dimmed. Like his father, she looked as if she had been awake for much too long.
Vyrl made himself speak. "I am truly sorry."
His mother considered him, then answered gently. "For frightening us, yes, but not for running away."
Vyrl winced. Living in a family of empaths had its drawbacks. He couldn't deny her words; as much as he regretted causing them pain, he would run away again given the chance.
"It's not his fault," Lily said. "It was my idea."
Everyone turned to her. "Yours?" Her father snorted. "I hardly think so." He waved his hand at Vyrl. "You've always had far too much sense for this boy. This is his kind of fool stunt."
"It's true," Lily said earnestly. "I told Vyrl I couldn't bear the thought of his marrying the queen from the sky. I begged him to come with me." She watched them with a wide-eyed gaze. "Really."
Her mother sighed. "Oh, honey."
Caul fixed Vyrl with a hard look. "As if you hadn't caused enough trouble, now you have my daughter lying."
Vyrl met his gaze. "I love your daughter for trying to defend me, sir, but the truth is that I'm the one who urged her to come with me. The idea was mine."
If a stare could have skewered a person, Caul's would have pierced Vyrl straight through. "You better be telling the truth about marrying her."
Lord Rillia spoke. "The marriage is easily checked." He considered Vyrl. "Did a Memory record the ceremony?"
"Yes, sir." Vyrl realized the Bard who married them must not have been the person who had revealed they were at the cabin. Odd that the fellow had chosen now to take a trip. Remembering the man's thoughtful consideration, Vyrl wondered if he and his wife had left deliberately, to avoid having to reveal what they would rather not say.
"Your Lordship," Vyrl began. "If I may ask… ?"
"Go ahead," Lord Rillia said.
"How did you know we were here?"
Althor started to speak, then glanced at Rillia. The sovereign nodded, giving Althor leave to continue. In the balance of interstellar hierarchies, Vyrl's family had far more power than Lord Rillia, but here on Lyshriol, Rillia held sway, and Vyrl's parents treated him with the respect due that position.
Althor turned to Vyrl. "The Ascendant finally broke through the jamming fields you set up."
Vyrl blinked. "The who?"
"The Ascendant. A battle cruiser in the ODS." Sensing Vyrl's confusion, Althor added, "In the Orbital Defense System."
Roca frowned at her wayward son. "As opposed, Vyrl, to the planetary defenses—which includes the equipment you stole and the shuttle you damaged."
Vyrl wondered if the military officers on the Ascendant would feed him after they threw him into the brig. He did his best to look repentant. "My apology for any difficulty I caused."
"Please," Lily said. "Don't let anyone hurt him."
Roca glanced at her new daughter-in-law, her expression softening. "I am so sorry, Lily, that Vyrl involved you in this."
"But why?" Warmth radiated from Lily's mind. "It is the most wonderful thing that could have happened."
Sadness came from Vyrl's mother. "Then I am truly sorry."
Lily turned to Vyrl, her gaze questioning and uncertain. Even more uneasy now, Vyrl looked from his mother to his father.
Eldrinson spoke quietly, but in a voice that brooked no argument. "We have the shuttle outside. We will leave now."
"Now?" Vyrl tensed. "You mean Lily and me?"
"No." His father's voice was firm. "Not Lily."
Vyrl went rigid, but before he could protest, Lord Rillia addressed Caul. "I would be pleased if you, your wife, and your daughter would be my guests for a few days. I regret that t
his affair took place in my city. I hope you will allow me to compensate you for your troubles."
Caul bowed to him. "We would be muchly honored to stay with you, Your Lordship."
"Wait!" Vyrl cried. Everything was moving too fast. "I can't leave Lily here."
His father crossed his arms. "You will do as we say. I want no more argument."
Vyrl protested anyway, but it did no good. His father and brothers marched him to the shuttle, and try as he might, he couldn't get past them. Lily strained to reach him, but both of her parents were holding her back now. With tears streaming down her face, she called to him. Vyrl went wild then, pounding at Althor with his fists. It was like hitting an immovable barrier. Neither his brothers nor father fought him, they just held him back. He felt everyone's dismay; no one liked tearing him and Lily apart. But it didn't stop them from loading him into the shuttle.
As the craft lifted off, Vyrl pressed his palms against the view screen. It showed Lily on the ground below, her face turned up as she watched the ship rise into the sky.
Sitting on the floor, wedged in a corner, Vyrl pulled his legs to his chest and folded his arms on them. Then he dropped his forehead onto his arms and sat in silence. He had come to this studio in the basement of the castle to work out, but he couldn't muster the energy. Since his parents had taken him from the cabin this morning, he hadn't even felt like speaking, let alone moving. He would have run into the plains, but they wouldn't even let him outside.
The footsteps were so quiet Vyrl didn't hear them until cloth rustled nearby. Raising his head, he saw his mother a few paces away. Dressed in a simple jumpsuit with her hair pulled back, she looked more like a farmer's wife than an interstellar potentate.
He spoke in a low voice. "Is Devon Majda still upstairs?" She nodded, sitting gracefully on the gold-stalk floor near him. "But the colonel who came down from the Ascendant has left."
Vyrl tried not to hide his fear. "Will ISC send me to prison?" "No." She spoke firmly. "But you will be expected to work at the starport until you pay off the damages you caused."
Vyrl exhaled. As much as he disliked working at the port, his penalty could have been a lot worse. He forced out the harder question. "And Majda?" Although he hadn't seen Devon yet, he felt the tension filling his home.
Her voice quieted. "We may be able to mend the fracture between Majda and the Ruby Dynasty. But you and Lily did great insult to Majda."
Vyrl had no excuses. So he said nothing.
Roca pushed her hand over her hair, pulling tendrils out of the clip. Compared to her usual elegant demeanor, now she seemed drained. "A split between our family and Majda could destabilize the government."
"Why? The Ruby Dynasty no longer reigns. We're just a bunch of farmers."
"Do you really believe that?"
He met her gaze squarely. "Yes."
His mother paused. "It is true that the Ruby Dynasty no longer rules the Imperialate. But we still wield a great deal of power. With that comes responsibilities. Our actions, policies, and alliances have great impact on the Assembly. We and they are inextricably linked. So is Majda, to us and to the Assembly." She brushed back the tendrils of hair curling around her face. "When we suffer discord, it weakens the Assembly, and so weakens the Imperialate."
Vyrl thought of his father upstairs with Devon. "So now we have discord with Majda." He knew that, on an interstellar scale, the union of Majda and the Ruby Dynasty was far more important than the happiness of two young lovers. But that knowledge didn't lessen the pain in his heart.
His mother lifted her hand as if to lay it on his arm as she had often done in his younger years, offering comfort. When he stiffened, unable to accept her solace, she lowered her arm. Gently, she said, "Devon is still willing to take you as consort, after we annul your marriage."
No! Vyrl felt as if a cage were closing around him. "Doesn't she know how you found me this morning?"
Roca nodded. "Yes. Despite that, she is willing to accept the arrangement."
He clenched his fists on his knees. "You can't annul my marriage."
His mother frowned. "Young man, we most certainly can. You and Lily are both underage, even for Lyshriol."
He scowled at her. "Then I can't marry Devon either."
"You can with parental consent."
"What, my consent doesn't matter?"
Her anger disintegrated. "Hai, Vyrl. I am so sorry."
He blinked. It was easier to be angry with his parents when they were angry with him. Sympathy and compassion were harder to handle. In a quieter voice, he said, "I'm not a political arrangement. I'm a human being."
"Yes. You are. A special, remarkable human being." She indicated the room around them. "What do you see here?"
Her question baffled him, and he couldn't tell from her mind what she was about. The room looked the same as always: large, longer than wide, and mirrors along one wall with a bar at waist-height. His athletic bag hung on the bar. The ceiling shed uniform light, leaving no shadows; the floor was gold-stalk, polished by years of use.
"It's just the dance studio," he said.
She smiled. "When you children were small, I practiced here everyday. For some reason it affected you more than the others." She indicated an area by one wall. "When you were a baby, you would sit in your carrier there and watch me, laughing and kicking your legs with the music."
Vyrl had no idea why she was telling him this, but it brought back wonderful memories. He had taken his first steps in this room, trying to mimic his mother's dancing, which had seemed magic to him. From that day on, she had taught him what she knew, until seven years ago when she had brought in off-world instructors, including Rahkil Mariov.
He couldn't help but smile. "I'm glad you didn't tell me to stop following you around."
"I was delighted." She gave him a rueful look. "Your father was less pleased, to put it mildly. But we could feel how much you loved it, and he couldn't bear to deny you that."
Suddenly he saw, or thought he saw, why she brought this up. "Lily knows I dance. She has accepted it."
A blend of emotions came from her mind, relief at his news, but also sadness. "I'm glad. I can imagine how much that means to you. But I wasn't thinking of Lily." She sighed. "You're a bright young man, Vyrl, but in most things you have so little focus. Convincing you to do schoolwork is like trying to extract a tooth without benefit of modern dentistry."
He grimaced at the apt image. "School is boring. I can't put my heart into it."
Her voice softened. "Three times in your life, I've seen you pour your heart into something. The results have been incredible."
Although he felt her sincerity, empathy could only tell him so much; her specific meaning eluded him. He indicated the studio. "Do you mean this?"
"Yes. This." She regarded him with a respect that startled him, particularly now, when he was in so much trouble. "I wonder if you fully realize what you do. I know of few if any other dancers who have trained like you."
He spoke dryly. "Given that I'm probably the only man on the entire planet who dances, that doesn't say much."
"I wasn't speaking of Lyshriol."
Puzzled, he said, "But I thought you danced with the Parthonia Royal Ballet."
Her gaze remained steady. "I did."
Her comments made no sense. Parthonia was a ballet company of interstellar renown. "Didn't they train?"
"Yes. Of course." With that unrelenting compassion of hers, she said, "But no one in their youth did what you've done. A minimum of three hours a day all your life, almost since you could walk. And now what is it? Four hours? Five? I've seen you spend the entire day dancing, when you have nothing else to do. It's incredible."
He shrugged. "It's fun." In truth, it was a great deal more, so much a part of his life that to stop would be like trying to quit breathing. But he didn't know how to put that into words.
Roca regarded him steadily. "Vyrl, you are more than a 'good' dancer. Rahkil Mariov tells me you are the best
he has ever worked with."
Vyrl thought of his instructor. "If he only takes one student at a time, he can't have worked with that many." It surprised him; he considered Rahkil a truly gifted teacher.
"Before he came here, he trained hundreds of dancers. Prodigies. He was one of the most sought after masters." His mother motioned skyward, as if to encompass all settled space. "In his prime, Rahkil was also considered among the greatest male dancers in modern history."
Vyrl could see why. He had watched holos of Rahkil performing. He was magnificent. And despite Rahkil's constant curmudgeonly disapproval, Vyrl thoroughly enjoyed his classes. Sometimes Rahkil even forgot himself and complimented his young student.
But his mother's comments perplexed him. "If Rahkil is so in demand, why would he come here to teach one boy who will probably never make dance his career?" As soon as he spoke, he saw the answer. Stiffening, he said, "Because I'm a Ruby prince."
"We didn't tell him who you were when we sent holos of you dancing."
Vyrl's anger fizzled. "But—then why did he come?"
She spoke with kindness. "Because you have an incredible gift. You could walk out of here today and win a place in any major dance company. Rahkil says you will someday surpass what he achieved in his prime."
Vyrl gaped at her. "That's crazy."
"Ah, Vyrl." Her voice held a mother's pain. "Shall you spend your life hiding this spectacular gift? Will you live ashamed of a talent and dedication that together could make you a legend in a profession you love more than almost anything else?"
Vyrl couldn't answer. Yes, it hurt, having to hide what he loved, but Lyshriol was his life, all he had ever known. He couldn't imagine anything else.
He spoke in a low voice. "You said you had seen me put my heart into three things. Dance is only one."
"Farming, too."
"I can't farm as the Majda consort."
"You could become an agriculturist. A research scientist."
"I don't want to do research. I want to make my living from the land." Despite the betraying moisture in his eyes, he found himself smiling. "Working in the fields, caring for livestock, making a life out of golden days—that's magic, Mother, real magic." Softly, he said, "And you've still only mentioned two things."
Irresistible Forces Page 18
