Fall of Angels (The Saga of Recluce #6)(69)

"A lovely young woman, and with great bearing and grace," Sillek observes. "You must be proud of her." His fingers touch his beard briefly.

"My daughters are a great comfort," Gethen answers as he reseats himself, "a great comfort. And so is my only son, Fornal. You will meet him at supper as well."

"I never heard but good of all your offspring, ser." Sillek has caught the slight emphasis on the word "only," but still places his own marginal accent on the word "all."

"Your courtesy and concern speak well of you, Lord Sillek." Gethen leans forward and pours the hot cider into the cups. "Your father was not just Lord of Lornth, but a friend and a compatriot." He turns the tray and gestures to the cups, letting Sillek choose.

Sillek takes the cup closest to him and lifts it, chest-high, before answering. "A compatriot of my sire is certainly someone to heed, and to pay great respect to." Then he sips the cider and replaces the cup on the tray.

Gethen takes his cup. "The son of a lord and a friend is also a lord and a friend." He sips and sets the cup beside Sillek*.

Sillek glances toward the fountain, then back to Gethen. "You offered my sire your best judgment."

"And I would offer you the same."

"You have heard of the ... difficulties I have faced recently, between certain events on the Roof of the World and Lord Ildyrom's ... adventures near Clynya?"

"I have heard that certain newcomers are said to be evil angels, and that they have great weapons and a black mage with powers not seen since the time of the descent of the demons."

"We do not know nearly enough," Sillek admits, "but what I do know is that these so-called angels killed nearly threescore trained armsmen and lost but three of their number. They have also destroyed several bands of brigands who thought them easy prey. Unfortunately, they have also caused others pain, others who may have judged-"

"It often is not our judgment that matters, Lord Sillek, but the perceptions of others," interrupts Gethen. "When the perception of the people is that women are weak, those who fall to women are deemed even weaker and unfit to lead." The master of the Groves shrugs, sadly. "And those who lead, especially rulers, must follow those perceptions unless they wish to fight all those who now support them."

"That is a harsh judgment."

"Harsh, yes, but true, and that is why I, who loved all my children, have but one son, for I cannot endanger the others by flaunting dearly held beliefs." Gethen clears his throat.

Sillek waits without speaking.

"I understand you were successful in reclaiming the grasslands with a rather minimal loss of trained armsmen." Gethen laughs. "Rather ingenious, I think."

"I was fortunate," Sillek says, "but it ties up my chief armsman and one of my strongest wizards in Clynya."

"Hmmmm. I see your problem. If you attempt to secure the river, or Rulyarth ... or send another expedition to the Roof of the World. .."

Sillek nods.

"Perhaps you should take the battle to Ildyrom. It appears unlikely that the newcomers on the Roof of the World would move against anyone in the near future. Nor will the Suthyan traders."

"I had thought that, Ser Gethen. Still, Ildyrom can muster twice the armsmen I can. The other option would be to enlist support for a campaign to take Rulyarth, enough support to wage such an effort without removing forces from Clynya."

Gethen purses his lips, then tugs at his chin. "That might work, provided those who supported you were convinced that you would continue to work in their best interests. With the access to the Northern Ocean, and the trade revenues, Lornth could support a larger force of armsmen ..."

"I had thought that, ser, but wished to consider your thoughts upon the matter."

"Hmmm . . . that does bear consideration." Gethen tugs at his chin again, then reaches for his cider and sips. "You would need to make a solid, a very solid, commitment."

"That is something that I would be willing to do, ser, especially for the good of Lornth."

"The good of Lornth, ha! You sound like your father. Beware, Sillek, of phrases like that. When a ruler talks of the good of his land, he means his own good."

"The two are not opposites, ser."

"True. And sometimes they are the same. Tell me, what do you think of Zeldyan?"

"At first blush, she is attractive and courtly. I would know her better."

"Should you wish for the good of Lornth, Sillek, I'd bet you will know her much better."

"That is quite undoubtedly true." Sillek forces a smile. "For you offer good advice."

"How good it is-you shall see, but I offer you all the experience that I have, purchased dearly through my mistakes." The gray-haired man rises. "I believe the time for supper nears, and Fornal and Zeldyan would like to share in your company."

"And I in theirs, and yours, and your lady's." Sillek stands and follows Gethen into the twilight of the courtyard.





XXXVII



THE WEST WIND, as usual, was chill, chill enough that most of those working on the Roof of the World had covered their arms, although only Narliat, stacking grasses on the drying rack, actually wore a jacket in the sunny afternoon of early fall.