Fall of Angels (The Saga of Recluce #6)(195)

"And your friend Relyn disappeared right after the battle. He was considerate, though. He took a Lornian horse and not a thing from us. You warned him, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"I trust we don't live to see his new faith threaten us all," Ryba said tiredly.

"It won't." Nylan could feel that it wouldn't; despite his threats to Relyn, he'd felt that way for seasons. Relyn needed the faith of order, and others would, too.

"I hope you're as good a prophet as an engineer."

So did Nylan, but instead of admitting that openly, he asked the question to which he already knew the answer. "Would you mind if I just turned this side of the tower into my quarters for now?"

"No. I wondered when you'd ask."

Nylan heard the sadness, and the acceptance, and the inevitability in her voice, and he nodded, saying, "I know you did what had to be done, and I did what I did in full knowledge." But it hurts, and it always will, and every time I open my eyes for the rest of my life, I 'II know what I did, and you don't even understand why I did it.

"You'll go down as one of the great ones, Nylan, and you're a good man, but you still don't accept that the world is governed by force. Cold iron is master of them all."

"Now," he agreed, without opening his eyes. "Now." But we can try to change that, and that's worthwhile.

"Always," answered Ryba. "Always."





CXXX



ZELDYAN ENTERS THE tower room, flanked by Gethen and Fornal. All wear white armbands, and the faces of all three are stern. They glance toward the alcove.

Lady Ellindyja rises, setting the embroidery on the far end of the bench. "Your Grace." Her eyes fix on the blond woman, as if Zeldyan's father and brother were not present.

"My lady Ellindyja, and grandmother of my son, I came to wish you well in your time of grief and loss." Zeldyan offers a head bow, one which is but the minimal formality.

"Your courtesy does you well, inasmuch as your grief must be even greater than mine own to have lost a mate and a lover and your son's father all at once."

"Great is my grief, as is yours. Yet I thought of you, and of how painful it must be for you to remain here, where you have lost so much." Zeldyan takes one step beyond those of her father and brother, so that she stands that much closer to Ellindyja.

"This little is all I require." Ellindyja's eyes harden. "And I trust, regents of Lornth, that you will not take this from me."

"As regents, we must look to the welfare of Lornth, and ensure that the gains made by Lord Sillek are preserved for his heir and his people." Zeldyan's voice is smooth, almost soft. "He sacrificed much to the cause of Lornth, and I would not see that squandered."

"You are all so devoted to Lornth. So devoted that you ensured that the one who showed the greatest concern would not be considered as one of my son's son's regents." Ellindyja turns her eyes on the gray-haired Gethen.

He does not flinch, and his gaze is steady as he answers. "That decision was his, My Lady. You know that. Know also that we, and the holders, agree in that decision. Those same holders also felt that the gains attained from the acquisition of Rulyarth should not be jeopardized by any effort to reclaim the wilderness on the Roof of the World."

"Wilderness now? I can recall when the area was prime summer pasturage. And when they were screaming to reclaim it."

"Wilderness," affirms Gethen. "My losses there have matched yours, and the holders scream no longer."

"Your losses are nothing as to what will happen to Lornth if those angels are not driven back to whence they came."

"There are times, lady," returns Zeldyan, "when the wisest course is to recognize what is. For a modest sum from us-"

"One might term it tribute."

"-they have agreed to maintain the new borders and to ensure the peace in the Westhorns."

"Whatever one calls it, the service is worth the price," adds Fornal. "They have destroyed every raiding band in their territory, and they have made the mid-Westhorn road the preferred trading route from Gallos. Already the traders are talking of doubling their runs and using Rulyarth instead of Armat."

"Those women will destroy Lornth."

"Attempting to defeat them has nearly destroyed us already," answers Gethen. "Karthanos has disavowed his agreements, and without the buffer of Westwind, we would be hard-pressed to hold Rulyarth."

"Westwind? You have recognized this... bastard... tabletop ... a place that has less than score two in their keep?"

"The number is more like fivescore now," says Fornal dryly. "With a mere twoscore, they destroyed more than two thousand armsmen. Would you care to lead the next force, Lady?"

"Do not be unkind, Fornal," says Zeldyan. "Lady Ellindyja has suffered deeply, as have we all. As have many of her old friends." Zeldyan bows deeply, cutting off the discussion, her high-collared tunic severe against her chest and beneath her silver-corded hair and coronet. "The world should see more of you, Lady Ellindyja."

"I have no desire to see more of the world."

"Alas..." Zeldyan inclines her head slightly. "For the sake of Lornth, and for the sake of your son's son, the time has come for you to be seen in the world."