There was silence, in which Vanye did not want to look at Hetharu, nor at Bydarra, who deliberately baited his son.
Perhaps, Bydarra continued softly, there is no such woman, and you and the Hiua girl are allied with this Roh. Or perhaps you have some purposes we in Ohtij-in do not know yet. Humankind drove us from Hiuaj. The Hiua kings were never concerned with our welfare, and they never held the power that Roh claims for himself.
Vanye stared at him, calculating, weighing matters, desperately. Her name is Morgaine, he said. And you would be better advised to offer her hospitality rather than Roh.
Ah, said Bydarra. And what bid would she make us? What would she offer?
A warning, he said, forcing the words, knowing they would not be favored. And I give you one: to dismiss him and me and have nothing to do with any of us. That is your safety. That is all the safety you have.
The mockery left Bydarras seamed face. He came closer, his lean countenance utterly sober, pale eyes intense: tall, the halflings, so that Vanye found himself meeting the old lord eye to eye. Light fingers touched the side of his arm, urging confidentiality, the while from the edge of his vision. Vanye saw Hetharu leaning against the table, arms folded, regarding him coldly. Hnoth is upon us, Bydarra said, when the floods rise and no traveling is possible. This Chya Roh is anxious to set out for Abarais now, this day, before the road is closed. He seems likewise anxious that you be sent to him when he is there, directly as it becomes possible; and what say you to this, Nhi Vanye i Chya?
That you are as lost as I am if ever you let him reach Abarais, Vanye said. The pulse roared in him as he stared into that aged qujalin face, and thought of Roh in possession of that Master Gate, with all its power to harm, to enliven the other Gates, to reach out and destroy. Let him ever reach it and you will find yourself a master of whom you will never free yourself, not in this generation or the next or the next. I know that for the truth.
Then he can do the things he claims, said Hetharu suddenly.
Vanye glanced toward Hetharu, who left the table and advanced to his fathers side.
His power would be such, Vanye said that the whole of Shiuan and Hiuaj would become whatever pleased himpleased him, my lord. You do not look like a man that would relish having a master.
Bydarra smiled grimly and looked at Hetharu. It may be, said Bydarra, that you have been well answered.
By another with something to win, said Hetharu, and seized Vanyes arm with such insolent violence that anger blinded him for the moment: he thrust his arm free, one clear thread of reason still holding him from the princelings throat. He drew a ragged breath and looked to Bydarra, to authority.
I would not see Roh set at Abarais, Vanye said, and once your own experience shows you that I was right, my lord, I fear it will be much too late to change your mind.
Can you master the Wells yourself? Bydarra asked.
Set me at Abarais, until my own liege comes. Thenask what you will in payment, and it will go better with this land.
Can you, asked Hetharu, seizing him a second time by the arm, manage the Wells yourself?
Vanye glared into that handsome wolf-face, the white-edged nostrils, the dark eyes smoldering with violence, the lank white hair that was not, like the lesser lords, the work of artifice.
Take your hands from me, he managed to say, and cast his appeal still to Bydarra. My lord, he said with a desperate, deliberate calm, my lord, in this room, there was some bargain struckyour son and Roh and other young lords together. Look to the nature of it.
Bydarras face went rigid with some emotion; he thrust Hetharu aside, looked terribly on Vanye, then turned that same look toward his son, beginning a word that was not finished. A blade flashed, and Bydarra choked, turned again under Hetharus second blow, the bright blood starting from mouth and throat. Bydarra fell forward, and Vanye staggered back under the dying weight of himlet him fall, in horror, with the hot blood flooding his own arms.
And he stared across weapons edge at a son who could murder father and show nothing of remorse. There was fear in that white face: hate. Vanye met Hetharus eyes and knew the depth of what had been prepared for him.
Hail me lord, said Hetharu softly, lord in Ohtij-in and in all Shiuan.
Panic burst in him. Guard! he cried, as Hetharu lifted the bloody dagger and slashed his own arm, a second fountain of blood. The dagger flew, struck at Vanyes feet, in the spreading dark pool from Bydarras body. Vanye stumbled back from the dagger as the door opened, and there were armed men there in force, pikes lowered toward him. Hetharu leaned against the fireplace in unfeigned shock, leaking blood through his fingers that clasped his wounded arm to his breast.
He Vanye cried, and staggered back under the blow of a pikeshaft that sent him sprawling and drove the wind from him. He scrambled for his feet and hurled himself for the door, barred from it by othersthrown aside, seized up the dagger that lay in the pool of blood, and drove for Hetharus throat.
An armored body turned the blade, a face before him grimacing in pain and shock: more blood flooded his hands, hot, before the others dragged him back and crashed with him over a bench. The blows of pikestaves and boots overwhelmed him and he lay half-sensible in a pool of blood, his own or Bydarras, he no longer knew. They moved his battered arms and cords bit into his wrists.
Shouts echoed. Throughout the halls there began a shriek of alarm, the sounds of womens voices and the deeper mourning of men. He listened to this, on the edge of consciousness, the shrieks part of the torment of chaos that raged about him.
He remained on the floor, untouched. Men came for Bydarras body, and they carried it forth on a litter in grim silence; and another corpse they carried out too, that of a man-at-arms, that Vanye dimly realized was to his charge. And thereafter, when the room was clear and more torches had been brought, men gathered him up by the hair and the arms, and bowed him at Hetharus feet.
Hetharu sat, while a priest wound his arm about with clean linen soaked in oils; and there was in Hetharus shock-pale face a taut and wary look. Armed men were about him, and one, bare-faced, his coarse bleached hair gathered back in a knot, handed Hetharu a cup of which he drank deeply. In a moment Hetharu sighed, and returned the cup, and leaned back in the chair while the priest tied the bandage.
A number of other lords came, elegant and jewelled, in delicate fabrics. There was silence in the room, and the constant flow of whispers in the corridor outside. As each lord came forward to meet Hetharu there was a slight bow, an obeisance, some only scant. It was the passing of power, there in that bloody cellmany an older lord whose obeisance was cold and hesitant, with looks about at the armed guards that stood grimly evident; and younger men, who did not restrain their smiles, wolf-smiles and no evidence of mourning.
And lastly came Kithan, waxen-pale and languid, attended by a trio of guards. He bowed to kiss his brothers hand, and suffered his brothers kiss upon his cheek, his face cold and distant the while. He stumbled when he attempted to rise and turn, steadied by the guards, and blinked dazedly, and stared down at Vanye.
Slowly the distance vanished in those dilated pale eyes, and something came into them of recognition, a mad hatred, distraught and violent.
I had no weapon, Vanye said to him, fearing the youths grief as much as Hetharus calculation. The only weapon
An armored hand smashed across his mouth, dazing him; and no one was interested in listening not even Kithan, who simply stared at him, empty-eyed, unasking what he would have said. After a moment someone took Kithan by the arm and led him out, like a confused child.