Zared rode into the courtyard.
She was the first thing he saw. Absolutely stunned, Zared pulled his horse to such a sudden, skittery halt that Herme and Theod, who rode directly behind him, had to rein their own mounts sharply to one side to avoid him.
“Leagh?” he whispered.
At that precise moment the ranked soldiers presented their swords and standards, and a trio of trumpeters high in Sigholt’s walls blew out a clarion of welcome.
In the sudden presentation of arms, and the flags and banners fluttering about, Zared lost sight of Leagh.
Frustrated, he leaped from his horse, ducked under its neck … and came face to face with an impassive StarSon Caelum.
“Prince Zared, I welcome you to Sigholt. May its doors always swing wide to greet you, and its bridge always sing you a greeting.”
Damn these polite receptions! Zared cursed. He tried to see past Caelum, but he only saw Askam further back in the gloom, and the first of the ranks of stony-faced soldiers.
“I thank you, StarSon,” he replied evenly. “I, as must my other companions among the Five, find myself somewhat surprised to be so suddenly called to Council.”
“You know why you are here,” Caelum said, his voice toneless, and Zared wondered how long Askam had been in Sigholt, and what he’d managed to whisper into Caelum’s ear. While not as close as their fathers had been, Caelum and Askam were nevertheless friends. “This disunity between you and Askam must finally be put to rest.”
Askam had whispered nothing complimentary, Zared thought. “Then I welcome the summons, StarSon. I wish for nothing more than peace and harmony within Tencendor.”
Caelum’s eyes had slipped behind Zared. “Herme? Theod? Why do you travel with Zared?”
“We met the Prince of the North coming through the lower Urqhart Hills,” Herme said easily, “and chose to ride the final leagues with him. Theod and myself thought to have our voices heard at this Council, as the weighty matter before it affects all those living in the West. As in the North.”
Far back in the column of Zared’s escort, Goldman and Heavorand pulled their hoods a little closer over their faces. No doubt Caelum’s enchanted eyesight could spot them if he chose, but they did not want Askam to see them. Their business was best conducted without their Prince knowing they were at Sigholt.
“Who gave you permission to attend this Council?” Askam stepped forward to Caelum’s shoulder. “Theod? You should be at home, attending your seasonal county courts. Herme? You should know better than to present your uninvited self at Sigholt!”
Theod was lost for words, but Herme replied smoothly. “I did not realise our freedom of movement – our choice of movement – was also subject to your whim, Sir Prince.”
“Enough!” Caelum snapped. Truly, Theod and Herme should have known better than to ride in with Zared as if he were their prince, not Askam! But Herme had also made a telling point, and Caelum did not regret the chance to hear from someone other than Askam how the West was responding to the taxes.
“You may stay, Sir Duke and Sir Earl,” he said, his tone more even now. “I shall organise an afternoon to speak with you, but I also reserve the right to invite you or bar you from Council as I please.”
He turned slightly and called to his steward. “Runton? Prepare chambers suitable for the Duke and Earl. Zared, perhaps you might like to dine with me tonight?”
Zared ignored his invitation. “Caelum,” he said softly. “What is Leagh doing here?”
Caelum stared at him a moment, then waved Leagh forward.
She hesitated, and the man at her side – Zared noticed with some surprise who it was – spoke softly in her ear. Leagh gave the smallest of nods, and then walked forward calmly to stand at Caelum’s side.
“Zared,” she said simply, her eyes fixed on his.
Zared opened his mouth, found he could say nothing, and so stepped forward, took her hand, and kissed her palm.
“I think we will resolve many things in Council,” Caelum said softly. “Not only the issue of taxes.”
The evening meal, held with due pomp in the Great Hall of Sigholt, was the longest Zared had ever endured in his life. All the heads of the Five were there, as were their captains, their lieutenants, Caelum’s brother and sisters, DareWing FullHeart and the other Crest-Leaders of the Strike Force, the mayor and entire council of Lakesview, their wives, as well as WingRidge CurlClaw, SpikeFeather TrueSong and fifteen assorted Enchanters.
Leagh … Leagh was seated not only across the broad banquet table, but seven places down! Zared had not the chance to speak one word to her, let alone touch her, hold her.
If the decision on their marriage was to be discussed – and then determined – in Council, then Zared knew what that decision would be. Damn Caelum – and every other member of the Council – to everlasting crippling arthritis for what they were going to do to him and Leagh! Did they not bed as they chose? Had not every one of them picked their own mate … save Caelum, of course, who yet lingered unmarried.
Zared went through the meal in a state resembling an angry fugue, replying only in monosyllables when he was addressed, pushing his meat about his plate until it went cold and congealed in its gravy, then tapping his fingers irritably against the linen-clothed table until Caelum finally rose and departed.
As the rest of the company scraped back chairs and got to their feet, Zared managed to catch Leagh’s eye, but no more. Askam placed a tight hand about her elbow and whisked her away before Zared could slip about the table to speak to her.
He stood, fuming with silent rage, as Herme paused behind him.
“Think how marriage to her would cement your claim to the throne, my prince,” he whispered. “Askam will never sire an heir. She would bring Achar to your marriage bed.”
Zared turned to stare at Herme, a muscle working in his cheek. “I want her as my wife because I love her!” he finally seethed. “Not for her inheritance!”
He pushed past the Earl of Avonsdale and strode away, but all he could think about on the long walk back to his chambers was whether or not, on that night atop Sigholt five years ago, his unspeaking mind had only seen Leagh standing before him … or the rich acres of the West as well.
Zenith was preparing for sleep when the gentle knock came at her door. Surprised, not knowing who could wish to speak with her this late, she slipped a wrap over her shoulders and opened the door.
Zared stood there, his face lined and tired, his eyes dark with unreadable emotion. “Zenith, you and I have always understood each other. Please, bring Leagh to me.”
Zenith stared at him, her mind in turmoil. By the gods, how she felt for both of them! Surely they deserved at least a private word – but, if left in private, how far might that “word” go? Their love was fraught with so much political tension, it carried such enormous consequences, that to even let them see each other …
Should she tell him that Caelum would not let the marriage take place? That there was no hope? No,
