Again, there was no taweyr. “You are still young,” said Kellin. “The taweyr is not always sure at that age.”
“The ekhono.” Edik looked about wildly, ignoring Kellin. “They must be here, even now. They have stolen from me.”
“Edik, no,” said Ailsbet.
“I must go at once and tell the king,” Edik said. “He must know the danger to us all—” He didn’t finish, but rushed away.
“Go!” Ailsbet urged Issa. “Who knows what he will do?”
Issa chased after Edik into the Great Hall.
What Edik had said as he burst in, Issa did not know. But the king looked up in annoyance at his son. “Yes, what is it?” he said.
“There are ekhono in the palace,” said Edik, in great heaving breaths. “They have taken my taweyr. And they may take yours, and every other man’s here. We must find them and stop them!”
“There are no ekhono in this palace,” said King Haikor. “I have made very sure of that, Prince Edik. Do you think I would not be able to sense them around me?”
“But how could you be sure?” said Edik. “The ekhono may have stolen even that ability from you.”
This was dangerous for Edik and dangerous for her, as well, thought Issa. If Edik angered the king, another could be set in his place as heir. And then what of their betrothal? What of the prophecy?
But King Haikor was focused only on Edik’s challenge. He lifted a hand, and a sword flew to him from the wall. It was long and studded with rubies at the hilt, a sword he had once used in battle.
“No!” shouted Issa.
But King Haikor did not even turn in her direction. Just when Issa was sure that he would run his son through at the neck, he stopped, the blade gently slicing a tiny point of the prince’s skin. A trickle of blood ran down to his shoulder and into his tunic.
“If your taweyr has been taken, you will not be able to stop me,” said King Haikor.
Prince Edik swallowed hard, and the blade dug a quarter inch farther into his neck. “Please, Father,” he said.
King Haikor’s arm twitched. “I must be sure,” he said, and the sword pressed into the skin once more.
Issa ran forward, heedless of her own safety, and thrust Edik out of the way of the sword, as blood poured down his neck. Issa pressed her fingers to him, focusing on her neweyr.
His wound had not been caused by taweyr, but only by the naked steel blade. Issa poured neweyr into Edik, sealing the wound in his throat. If he lived, that was good for her and for Weirland, surely. The betrothal would continue.
“Neweyr in my own court?” said King Haikor. “You must know I have strictly forbidden it.”
With a deep curtsy, Issa begged the king’s pardon with all the proper language she could summon. “For the sake of your son, whom I knew you would have wanted saved. I promise it will never happen again, Your Majesty.” She kept her head low, her voice humble.
King Haikor touched her chin with a finger and looked her in the eyes. There was something in his eyes that made her think of the ocean at the land bridge, rapaciously hungry and grasping, never satisfied.
Edik groaned, and Issa bent down to him.
“Get up,” said King Haikor to his son with little sympathy. “You have not an ounce of taweyr in you now, Edik.”
Did that mean the king would say he was no longer heir?
But King Haikor’s anger was not directed at Edik. “Someone has taken it from you, for you had it in quantity when you battled with Kellin. So who have you seen since then? Give me the names!”
“Only—only my groomsmen,” said Edik. “And Duke Kellin.”
But the king shook his head. “Duke Kellin is no ekhono. He has shown his taweyr time and again. It cannot be him. Therefore, it must be your groomsmen.” He clapped his hands and two servants ran to kneel before him. “Bring me Prince Edik’s groomsmen immediately.”
Issa felt herself going faint as she realized what this meant. The king thought the groomsmen were ekhono and would punish them accordingly. She had been so relieved that Edik and Kellin had survived their battle, and that her betrothal would go forward. She had not thought of the consequence to others.
“As for you, go to your rooms and rest,” King Haikor said to his son. “Once the ekhono are dealt with, then your taweyr will return to you. Come to me when you wish me to test you again, to prove yourself.”
Edik bowed his head and motioned for Issa to go with him. She had no choice. She could not save Edik’s groomsmen. She had to be content that she had saved Edik. And she had kept Ailsbet’s secret, as well as her own.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Ailsbet
THE FOLLOWING DAY, Ailsbet returned to her own rooms to bathe and dress. She fell asleep without intending to, and thus it was late that night when she went to check on Kellin again.
The duke’s servants allowed her in, but when Ailsbet called for him, he did not answer and when she opened the curtains around his bed, she discovered it was empty. Her first instinct was to chastise his servants for not knowing where their master was in this early stage of his recovery. He should not have been out of bed, surely, and the physician must have told them this.
Then she stopped herself. It was entirely possible that Kellin had not told his servants where he was going. Whatever he was doing might need to be kept secret, but that did not mean that she would be satisfied he was well without seeing him for herself.
She wondered if whomever Kellin married would spend most of her nights awake, waiting for him, and unsure if he was well or not. Did she want to be that woman? Pondering this, she fell asleep on the chair by his bed. Some time later, she started awake at the sound of Kellin’s footsteps. He looked exhausted. “So. Will you demand to know where I have been?” he asked.
“Will you tell me?” asked Ailsbet.
“I shall tell you something that sounds true, if you wish it. It will make a good story to share with others, if you wish for a laugh,” said Kellin.
Ailsbet shook her head, relieved that she had found him well enough to walk despite his recent injuries, and returned to her own rooms. Perhaps the physician had exaggerated his need for rest. She could not believe that Kellin had an assignation with another woman. He was too careful for that. No, it was something else that he was involved in, likely far more dangerous.
In the morning, she heard that all four of Prince Edik’s groomsmen had disappeared in the night. No one had seen them flee or had any idea where they had gone. They had slipped beyond the gray stone walls of the palace, likely to the east where the walls were crumbling, and King Haikor was in a fury that his guards had been so negligent as to let them go. He had even held two of the gate guards for questioning.
Now Ailsbet knew where Kellin had been, and why.
She returned to his rooms soon after breakfast and found him just dressed, his hair still wet. “You helped the groomsmen escape,” she accused him. “But how did you know they were in danger?” She had heard rumors that her father had blamed them for the theft of Prince Edik’s taweyr.
“They were easy targets,” said Kellin.
“But it is ridiculous,” said Ailsbet. “Edik has always been too young to show his taweyr. I don’t understand why so many have bothered to pretend otherwise, when it would come to him naturally in time.”
Kellin shook his head. “It was simply too tempting for those in your father’s court to help it along. With your father’s brother being ekhono, and your own lack of neweyr, it was more urgent for Edik to appear normal, and more than that—strong in the taweyr, adept, and even early with it. It keeps your father’s nobles from beginning to make plans for the day when your father is weak or dead, and a young Edik is all that stands between them and the throne.”
“Does this mean my father suspects the truth about me being ekhono?” said Ailsbet, daring to say aloud words she had only hinted at before.
“Even if he doesn’t, he may decide that you and Edik are useless to him now that Edik’s
taweyr is revealed as a sham.”
“But Edik should still have years—” Ailsbet protested. It was a matter of physical development. Girls came into their neweyr as they grew into a woman’s body, and they did it earlier than boys. Why should Edik not have as much time as anyone else?
“He should, but he will not now. Your father must have known he was taking this risk all along. Now the nobles will always suspect he is being helped along, that his taweyr is exaggerated. I cannot see how he ever will be safe as heir again.” Kellin sounded angry.
“You were counting on him to be heir,” she said.
“He was my hope for a better future,” said Kellin. “If Edik were king of Rurik, he would remember his love for you, and it would change his view of the ekhono.”
That was Kellin’s plan, the reason he risked so much and worked so hard at her father’s side?
“And now?” Ailsbet asked. “What will my father do?”
“Oh, your father is never caught off guard. He has another heir waiting in the wings,” said Kellin. “Or near enough,” he added.
It took Ailsbet a moment to understand this. “You mean if Lady Pippa bears him a son,” she said. “But surely such a son would be too young to threaten Edik and me. It would be years yet before he showed his taweyr.”
“But a babe who has not been shown a fraud or without weyr is better than either of you,” said Kellin.
It felt like a blow to the heart. Ailsbet had not cared much for power herself, but if Edik were to lose all, what would happen to them? “It is his own fault,” she said. “He did this to Edik.” Or if not, her father had encouraged it.
“Yes, he did. And it does not matter. Your father sees you as pieces in a game,” said Kellin. “Do you not know that already? If he has to lose one piece, he does not mind so long as there is another that he can make stronger.”
Ailsbet’s mind whirled and she felt hot with taweyr. She wanted desperately to fight Kellin physically, though she knew that none of this was of his doing. “But even if there is a baby, it is not born yet. He does not know if it will be a boy or a girl.”
“He will have others,” said Kellin. “With Lady Pippa or another noblewoman who can give him what he needs. I do not even know if he cares anymore if the child is legitimately born to a woman named queen.”
“But he will have to wait twelve or fourteen years or even more for another son to show his taweyr clearly,” said Ailsbet. “What if he does not live that long?”
“That is exactly the right question,” said Kellin, nodding at her with approval. “Ailsbet, you see this more clearly than anyone in your father’s court. And you see it with eyes that are not colored by your own desire for power.”
“Power?” said Ailsbet. “I want none of it.”
“But that does not mean that it is not yours already,” said Kellin softly. “You have many advantages over your brother. You have taweyr in plenty. If you admitted it, no one would think that you were pretending. You could take the throne here in Rurik, where taweyr is so valued above neweyr.”
Ailsbet could not believe that Kellin was suggesting this. She shook her head. “I am ekhono. There is no way that I could ever be anything in my father’s kingdom. As soon as the truth comes out, I shall be shunned at best, killed more likely.”
“If your father is still alive,” Kellin answered. “But what if he is not? What reason could there be after his death for his prejudices against the ekhono to continue?”
“They are not only his prejudices,” said Ailsbet. “And they existed long before he came to the throne.”
“No, but if you showed yourself to be the best ruler, and you had powerful nobles to support you—” Kellin said.
It seemed he was offering himself, but how many others would there be? She had believed that she and Kellin were friends, but this was not what she had thought that friendship meant. “It does not matter,” she said. “I have no interest in the throne. Even if I could reveal myself, it would not matter. I do not want to play with politics.”
“It is not a question of what you want, Princess Ailsbet,” said Kellin, using her title. “It is a question of what Rurik needs.”
If she had not known what he felt for Issa, she would have wondered if he, like Lord Umber, meant to woo her for his own power. Would any man ever see her for herself, and not for the title she bore? “You are speaking treason,” said Ailsbet.
“Am I?”
“The only time I would be able to announce that I had taweyr would be if my father—” said Ailsbet.
“If he were dead or so weak that he needed you.”
“But Edik—”
“Even if Edik comes into the taweyr, he may not have enough of it to rule with the iron fist that your father’s nobles have become used to. You do. It is always strong in the ekhono. Otherwise it would be easier to hide, and they would be less threatening to the rest of us.”
He spoke truth, but Ailsbet wanted none of it.
Kellin continued speaking. “And taweyr or not, Edik does not have the personality to lead the kingdom. You know that.”
“He is still growing,” said Ailsbet. “He may yet prove as strong as my father.”
“Yes. I have told myself the same thing over and over again. Surely, no man in the kingdom wishes as much as I do that Edik would grow into a proper king. But if he does not, there must be another choice.”
“He is to marry Princess Marlissa. They are to unite the kingdoms.” And possibly the weyrs, as well, Ailsbet thought. It would be a perfect end, and it would have nothing to do with her.
“Perhaps,” said Kellin. “I have promoted that alliance from the first. But if Issa and Edik marry, do you think they can hold two kingdoms? I fear your father never meant for them to do so. He wanted an excuse to have Edik on the throne in Weirland, perhaps, but not both of them here.”
Ailsbet gaped at him. “You love Issa.” Or was that another part of his ruse? “How can you give away Issa’s power so easily? She and Edik are the ones meant to rule both kingdoms, not me.” That was what the prophecy said, was it not? Ailsbet had no neweyr. Even if she married Kellin, she could not expect a child of theirs to have both weyrs, could she?
“This is not about Issa and Edik or my feelings for her. This is about what is best for both kingdoms. It always has been.”
Ailsbet supposed she should not be surprised. She had already seen how ruthless and single-minded Kellin could be when it came to doing her father’s bidding. Now Issa would be sacrificed to his vision of the future as much as he himself would. And if she allowed it, Ailsbet would be, as well.
“Issa will still betroth herself to Edik, at least for now,” said Kellin. “But a king like Haikor never has only one plan to maintain his power. That is why he will marry Lady Pippa, when she has proven she is carrying his child.”
“Then there is nothing left for me to worry over,” said Ailsbet. “Issa and Edik will have all the power they can hold on to.”
“Except that your father stretches himself too far, and he does not see you clearly enough. He does not understand what an asset you might be to him. Even I did not realize that until I began to spend time with you.”
It had been a mistake, Ailsbet thought, to let anyone close to her, Kellin most of all. She should have remained hidden in every way if she wished to be free of all this.
Kellin continued, “You have all your father’s best qualities, Ailsbet. You are clear-minded, and you see others’ faults. You understand how the court works and who moves whom. You need to learn more, of course, but you have the foundation.”
“Of what?” Ailsbet shook her head. “All I want is my music. I do not even want to be a princess.”
“This is not about being a princess,” said Kellin. He did not use the word queen, but it rang in the air nonetheless, unspoken.
Ailsbet had never thought the man ambitious before now. He had made his move openly to court her, if that was what he was doing. If she married him, and i
f he made her queen, then he would be king. Was that what this was all about, and not helping the ekhono? Was he merely another Lord Umber?
“I am ekhono,” she reminded him.
“And for now, that bothers the Rurese people. Because your father has made it so.”
“Is this why you saved my brother’s groomsmen? So that there would not be a spectacle involving the ekhono before you make your move?”
“It is not I who will make the move,” said Kellin. “It is yours to make. I have said it before, and it remains true. I serve the kingdom, not myself.”
Ailsbet did not know whether she believed him or not. “I have never believed myself capable of ruling, and now that I know I am ekhono, I believe it less than ever.”
“You should trust yourself more. And your people. You should see how flexible they are. They value strength in a ruler, and they value the weyrs as they should.”
“No,” said Ailsbet. “How many times must I say it?”
“Until I believe it, I think,” said Kellin. “And until you do.”
She waited a long moment and shook her head again.
Kellin shrugged. “As you say. It will be Edik, then. We must make sure that your father gives him time to show his taweyr, and to grow in other ways. Princess Marlissa may help.”
Yes, that was how it should be, how it must be. The throne had always belonged to Edik. And Marlissa would make a far better queen than Ailsbet ever would.
There was a knock at the door, and a messenger came to inform Kellin that two of Prince Edik’s groomsmen had been discovered by the king’s spies. Both had been brought to the Tower and formally accused of being ekhono, and of stealing Edik’s taweyr. In the next week, they would be executed in public as ekhono, the fate that Ailsbet herself had begun to fear.
“I am sorry your work was all for nothing,” said Ailsbet, though, in truth, she was relieved that Kellin’s plan had proven him flawed. It meant, surely, that he must be wrong about her, too, and about Edik.
“There were four groomsmen,” Kellin reminded her.
The Rose Throne Page 17
