Paulo was already asleep, and Kellea’s eyes were drooping. But I could conceive of no circumstance that would let me sleep. My cheeks hot, my soul agitated, my body a series of knots like those that little girls tie in ribbon to tell their fortunes, I sat on the floor leaning against the wall, shredding the already frayed ends of my cloth belt. “I’ll take the first watch,” I said.
Karon left the window and crouched down in front of me, his face on a level with my own. I tried to turn away. But he gently took my head in his hands and pressed his thumbs to my pounding forehead, just between my eyes. “Sleep, my lady,” he said softly. “We will need your strength. He will need your strength. I’ll watch tonight.”
As on the Bridge, his presence enfolded me. But comfort, even of so generous a giving, was not what I needed. Why couldn’t he see it?
I thrust his hands aside, looked up, and saw in front of me a stranger’s face. Not Karon’s fine bones and slender jaw-the face I wanted and needed and yearned to see-but D’Natheil’s square chin, wide-set eyes, and hard, carved cheeks. “Why should I trust you to watch?” I said, disappointment and grief and exhaustion bursting from me all at once. “I hold the Dar’Nethi responsible. I’ve found little in the people of Gondai save treachery, self-importance, and greed, all of which I can find in abundance in my own people. I’ve seen nothing to refute the argument that we would be better off if the Bridge had been destroyed four months ago. So while you watch, you might give serious thought as to why I shouldn’t act as one of your own would do-stick a knife in you and trade your body for my son.”
Bareil gasped. “My lady!”
My lips stung with the hateful words. They had come out all wrong. “I didn’t mean- I’m-” I stammered, trying to think whether some apology or attempt at modification might be worse than letting the words vanish into the exhausted temper of the wretched day.
But Karon laid a finger on my lips. “You can be sure I’ll give your idea my utmost consideration.” He wasn’t even angry.
I fell asleep before I could make an answer.
Someone laid me on the bed while I slept, for I was on the bed when I woke to see Bareil standing in a square of sunlight, looking out the window. Kellea was curled up in the room’s only chair, and Paulo was rolled in a blanket on the floor. Smoothing my rumpled clothes, I crossed the room in stockinged feet, so as not to wake the sleepers, and poured myself a mug of saffria from the still-warm pot.
“He’s done it,” said the Dulcé quietly, his eye not leaving the view from our window. “I thought he would wait-explore the other possibilities-talk it over with you-devise an alternate plan to allow us some recourse if Master Dassine’s expectations were ill-founded…”
“The Prince… what’s he done? Where is he?”
Bareil motioned to me to the window.
The morning was glorious, the pale spires of the city glowing in the dawn light. Snow lay like a white veil over the city, freshening its face for the new day. But I lost interest in the view when I saw the tall figure walking slowly across the vast commard-surely the heart of the great city. Already passersby had noticed him; several knelt and he raised them up. Others bowed or curtsied or scurried across the great square, past fountains and trees and statuary, dragging others from their houses. Karon nodded his head in return, but did not slow his progress toward the palace gates that fronted the commard and gardens. From shops and houses sleepy residents emerged wearing shifts and nightsmocks and caps. From the lanes and streets of the city trickled twos and threes, then tens and twenties, then throngs of people, in moments transforming the quiet city into a joyous mob, shouting, waving, cheering, calling out to each other and the one who moved through them, almost invisible now.
“What is it they cry?” I said, my heart as cold as first frost.
“They say, ‘Our Prince has returned. Our Prince is healed. D’Arnath’s Heir walks among us.’ ”
“They recognize him?”
“Easily. He has spoken his name to someone, and the truth of it wreathes him like the sun’s aura. Everyone in Avonar will know on waking that the Heir walks among them. He tells them to be of good heart.”
“I didn’t think he was ready to assume this role. Has he decided to refuse Dassine’s charge? Is he off seeking vengeance or royal glory?” Confused and angry, I believed what I said no more than I had meant the horrid jibe of the previous night. But when Bareil turned his distraught face to me, all other emotion was drowned in fear.
“He is not ready, but he has seen no choice in his course. Nor has he rejected Dassine’s charge, but rather submitted to it despite his profound misgivings. He goes to the Preceptorate.”
“The Preceptorate… He’s going to murder Exeget. Is that what the old devil told him to do?”
“No, my lady. He has no means to do such a thing.” The Duice’s eyes dropped to the tangle of leather and steel in his hands-D’Natheil’s sword belt, and the sword and dagger of D’Arnath. Bareil raised his eyes again, awash in grief. “Master Dassine told my lord that if the child was taken to Zhev’Na, then he must give himself to the Preceptorate for examination-and that he must go to them defenseless. When they examine him, they will probe his mind-question him without restraint. I do not know how he can possibly survive it.”
By the time Karon reached the broad steps before the palace gates, six robed figures awaited him. Even at such a distance, I could pick out the giant Gar’Dena, the scarecrow-like Y’Dan, the short wizened figures of the two eldest, Ustele and Ce’Aret, all as Bareil had described them. The two other figures, less easily distinguished, would be Madyalar, “the Mother,” and Exeget, traitor and murderer and abductor of children. The six bowed to their prince.
“What is it he does?”
Karon had removed his cloak, his tunic, and his shirt. Now he sat on the steps in front of the six and motioned to an onlooker, who proceeded to remove Karon’s boots. When he rose again, clad only in breeches and leggings, doing something with his hands, the crowd was instantly hushed.
“He surrenders himself,” said the Dulcé, laying aside the Prince’s weapons. “His actions tell his people that he is their servant and that he will abide by the results of examination by their Preceptors. In essence, he states his willingness to risk everything-his freedom and his rightful inheritance-to erase all doubts as to his lineage and capacities. The silver ribbon she wraps about his wrists symbolizes his submission to their authority.” His chin lifting a bit, he pointed out the window. “Note that it is to Madyalar he has surrendered, not to the head of the council-Exeget-as would be expected. A clever move, but a terrible insult to Exeget. All will understand it, of course. Everyone in the city knows of the bitterness between them.”
The six turned and walked slowly up the steps to the palace gates, which swung open before them. Karon followed, shirtless and barefoot in the cold, bright morning, and a phalanx of guards fell in behind him.
“Why?” I said. “Why would Dassine tell him to do such a thing? It doesn’t make sense.”
“I wish I could answer, my lady. My late master was a wise and clever man, and I knew him better than anyone living save the Prince, who cannot yet remember how they existed as one mind in the years when he had no body. Master Dassine did many things in his life that were tangled and obscure, yet-please do not think that I boast-I have always been able to unravel his plots. This one, though”- he clasped his hands tightly behind his back. “I cannot piece together any strategy requiring the Prince to present himself defenseless to those who were willing for him to die on the Bridge only a few months ago.”
The crowds dispersed quickly, leaving the commard almost deserted. Kellea and Paulo had wakened and joined us at the window, and we explained what we’d seen and Bareil’s misgivings.
“What are the possible outcomes of this examination?” asked Kellea.
“If he is found to be the Heir and sound of mind, then he will be able to assume his throne and do as he pleases. If it is determined that he is an impostor, he will be executed immediately. If he is found to be the true Heir, yet of unsound mind-which is what I fear-I do not know. In a thousand years such a thing has never occurred.”