Dragon Prince 01 - Dragon Prince (32 page)

Chay finished inspecting Akkal and swung up into his saddle. “I look like a damned rainbow,” he complained, plucking at one red silk sleeve. White elk-hide trousers and boots completed his own colors, and he wore a blue sash around his waist in honor of his prince.

“Tobin thinks you look wonderful, so shut up about it. Watch out for Lord Reze’s big gray over there. He’s the one horse in the field with legs on him.”

“Going to bet on him?” Chay grinned as he patted Akkal’s neck.

“He doesn’t look
that
fast!” Rohan turned his head as the trumpet sounded for the first race. “There’s the call. The track’s fast, but I thought I saw a rough section in the second third.”

“Thanks. Go hold Tobin’s hand and remind her that I’ve never fallen off a horse in my life.”

“Blesandin sent you over backward two years ago.”

“That beast had the very devil in him, and I was drunk at the time.”

Rohan laughed and watched Chay guide Akkal into line, knowing he had some time before the start of the race to inspect his own horses. Chaynal raced his stock for business purposes, but Rohan had decided to participate purely for the fun of it. He called his grooms around him and began giving out final riding assignments, then saw Ostvel hovering around the edge of the group, looking wistful.

Rohan gestured him over. “You have an easy face to read,” he observed with a smile.

“I know,” the young man said mournfully. “My lord, I didn’t want to ask but—”

“See that dappled mare? Her name’s Eliziel and she’s a handful on her best days, so be careful. You’ll be riding my colors in the fourth race.”

Ostvel’s eyes shone and for a moment he looked as if he’d drop to one knee in gratitude. Sense got the better of emotion, much to Rohan’s relief. “Thank you, my lord! She’s a beauty! I’ll win the race for you, I promise!”

“You’d better,” Rohan threatened playfully. He gave out the other assignments and went to the royal stands. Being a ruling prince could be fun when one could make other people’s pleasure, as he just done with Ostvel. He looked for Andrade’s blonde head, then climbed up to where she was seated with Camigwen.

“Good morning, ladies,” he said as he took a place beside his aunt. “Where’s Tobin?”

“With Sioned and the High Prince’s charming children,” Andrade replied.

“Oh.” He didn’t want to be reminded that the princesses existed, and he especially didn’t want to worry about what poison would ooze from their remarks to Sioned. “Tell me, Aunt, is Tobin intending to have a good time with them?”

“I wouldn’t put it past her, my lord,” Camigwen said, her eyes dancing. “She’s an education.”

“I agree—but the lessons were rather painful until I grew taller than she.”

“Do you still have the scar where she bit you?” Andrade asked, amused.

“To the end of my days. But don’t reveal my secret, Camigwen—my squire thinks I took it in battle and spreads word of how brave I am.”

“Now that I know your sister, I think your squire is right!” she laughed.

Andrade pointed to the track. “There’s Chay. He’d better win this race—I bet Lleyn a hundredweight of wine against half a measure of his best silk.”

“Start planning your new wardrobe,” Rohan told her.

Jervis, city lord of Waes, had delegated starter’s honors to his eldest son, Lyell. The boy was a gangly sixteen, but stood tall and proud on the platform as he held up the bright yellow flag. The horses lined up and even amid the riot of colored silks it was easy to pick out Chay’s red-and-white, especially when the flag swept down and Akkal surged to the lead.

The first race was a distance trial of three measures that tested heart, lung, and leg. Its matching race would be the last one of the day; the same horses and riders would go the same distance, providing prospective buyers with an excellent idea of the merits of the different studs. Akkal was passed at the measure-mark by Lord Reze’s gray, and the crowd gasped. Chay was always a popular favorite, both for his personal charm and his habit of winning, and the spectators held their breath as Akkal narrowed the gap. The two horses matched each other stride for stride over two-thirds of a measure. Suddenly an arm wearing white striped with russet and Ossetia’s dark green lifted once, twice, and a whip landed with ruthless force across the gray’s hindquarters. Chay’s hands never left the reins, but Akkal’s strides lengthened until it seemed he was flying. When the yellow flag swept down at last, a roar went up all around the track—for nearly everyone had bet on Chay, and won.

“Well,” Andrade said, pleased. “My silk was in doubt for a time, there.”

“If you ladies will excuse me, I’ll go take a look at that gray and see if he’s going to be in any shape for his revenge this afternoon.”

He met Chay on the path back to the paddock, where Akkal would be walked and rested for the final race. Radzyn’s lord had dismounted and was indulging himself in a few creative descriptions of his opponent.

“Did you see what that whoreson did?” He asked Rohan furiously. “Flicked Akkal with his whip, right in the middle of the third where no one would see him! I’ve never even put a
spur
to Akkal, and he had the nerve—!” He stroked the stallion’s sleek neck protectively.

“I didn’t see it,” Rohan confessed. “But I had a look at the gray just now. You’ll be able to take him in the last race, Chay. No trouble.”

“Take him?” Chay’s eyes flashed. “He’ll choke on our dust!” A groom came up and Chay handed him Akkal’s reins, giving precise instructions for the horse’s care that obviously insulted the boy. As they walked along the row of paddocks, the trumpet sounded for the second race and Chay smiled lightly at the sight of one of his favorite mares prancing eagerly to the track. “Reze has a mare entered in this one, too,” he said. “I hope he can get used to losing. But isn’t that Ostvel over there with Eliziel?”

“I’m letting him ride the fourth. He wanted to impress Camigwen.” Rohan winked. “It’s not uncommon for a man in love.”

“Next thing,
you’ll
be riding.”

“You know, that’s not a bad idea.”

“Don’t be an idiot! Princes don’t ride in these races!”

“No?” He called out to one of his grooms. “How’s Pashta feeling today?”

“Ready, my lord. What race do you fancy?” The man grinned.

“Brochwell Bay for emeralds,” he replied casually, and waited for Chay to explode. He was not disappointed.

“You’re crazy!”

“I’ll see to it at once, my lord,” the groom said. “And may I say I’m glad you’ve decided to enter?”

“You may not,” Chay snapped, then rounded on his brother-by-marriage. “Impress the girl if you must, but not at the risk of your neck! There’s not a woman alive who’d thank you for bringing a pair of broken legs or worse to your wedding night!”

“What I bring to my wedding night will be in perfect working condition,” Rohan answered.

“Oh, wonderful,” Chay said in a voice that dripped sarcasm. “I’ll be sure to tell that to everyone while you’re galloping out to Brochwell Bay and back, with whole measures between where nobody will have an eye out for you—Rohan, didn’t you hear a word we said last night?”

“I’m riding, and that’s an end to it,” he stated, turned, and came face to face with Princess Ianthe. Cool and lovely in lavender with silver jewelry, she had not come to the paddocks to admire the horseflesh, and they both knew it.

“It was an exciting race, Lord Chaynal,” she said gracefully. “Your wife will look magnificent in her rubies.”

“I hear you’re responsible for the idea,” Rohan said.

“Excuse me,” Chay interrupted. “I see one of my grooms signaling to me.”

Rohan looked, saw nothing of the kind, and shot a murderous look at Chay. The older man grinned and left him alone with the princess.

“Are you enjoying yourself, cousin?” she asked him.

“More so than last time, before I became an eligible prince,” he answered forthrightly, and they started back to the stands.

She blushed, with fascinating results. “It must be tiresome for you.”

“I’m sure you go through the same thing, being an unmarried princess.”

“Mostly I see ambassadors,” she said, looking down at her hands. “But I won’t consider any man who can’t be bothered to meet me himself.” She was shorter than Sioned, and when she glanced up at him her heavy dark lashes were thick veils over her eyes. “It’s a little like being offered at the Fair.”

“A little,” he agreed. “May I escort you up to your sisters? I have an entry in the next race that I’d like to watch.”

Thus it was that Sioned’s first view of him all day came as he guided Ianthe to a seat, her fingertips resting elegantly on his wrist. Rohan saw at once that he had done something both smart and stupid. There was advantage in being seen publicly with Roelstra’s daughters, dividing his attentions among them. But he had made a personal error by placing himself in a position where he could compare them directly with Sioned. She was less beautiful, less regal, less elegant—and she was also the only woman he wanted.

“Here you are at last!” Tobin said brightly as he sat down. “Is Chay all in one piece? I suppose he’ll spend all day with Akkal instead of with me. It’s easy to see which of us he values more! But I’m having a wonderful time with our cousins, and it’s so nice to be out of the hot sun. How sweet it was of Prince Lleyn to see to our comfort!”

There was more in a similar vein, and Rohan blessed her for turning into a scattershell for his benefit. Sioned sat in cool silence, her back stiff and her expression set in stone. She wore a russet linen gown and no jewelry but her Sunrunner’s rings and his emerald. Aware that noticing the ring had brought a smile to his lips, he looked from her to Pandsala.

She met him stare for stare, and unlike her sister Ianthe did not blush. He offered a pleasantry about the weather; she responded with a polite nod. He asked if she was enjoying the races; she nodded again and stared down at the track. Rohan began to feel irked. He deserved better than this and had nearly decided to go about getting it when he realized that he was reacting precisely as Pandsala wished. The notion that his clever self had nearly been outsmarted by this girl both amused and irritated him. Pandsala with her ploy of indifference and Ianthe with her obvious interest were a potent pair. All at once he wondered if Andrade had foreseen his reaction, and provided Sioned to counter any attractions he might feel toward the princesses. Certainly he had twice today come close to forgetting his probable lifespan if he wed either. But the thought of Sioned kept him from any serious danger.

His mare came in second in the race. Through the next interval and the race following he divided his attention between his sister and the two princesses, ignoring Sioned completely. She did not appear to notice.

To Ianthe he said, “I have great hopes for my entry in the fourth. There she is now—her name’s Eliziel, which means ‘cloudfoot’ in the old language.”

“She’s a beauty,” Ianthe responded warmly. “Do you take an interest in the old tongue, cousin?”

“After a fashion. Mostly to name my horses.”

Sioned’s brows shot up. “We’re taught at Goddess Keep that the old words have great power and should not be used lightly, my lord.”

“How quaint,” Pandsala murmured.

“Who’s that up on Eliziel?” Tobin asked quickly.

“Ostvel,” Sioned supplied in a colorless voice. “I marvel, my lord, that you allow someone from Goddess Keep on one of your precious horses.”

“He more than earned the privilege on the way here, so I rewarded him with the honor of riding her.”

His own reward was a frigid silence. Tobin giggled and pointed to their right. “Oh, look—there’s Camigwen with Andrade. She looks as if she doesn’t know whether to be proud or terrified!”

Ostvel on a mere horse was an excellent rider; Ostvel mounted on a mare of Eliziel’s quality inevitably won the race. Rohan grinned smugly.

“Camigwen will look lovely in carnelians,” Tobin observed.

“Is that to be the prize for this race?” Pandsala asked her sister, then turned to Rohan without waiting for an answer. “Will you really give the rider gems won by your horse?”

“He needs a wedding gift for his lady.” He delighted in having made not only Ostvel’s pleasure but Cami’s as well. Being a prince was
wonderful
fun.

“How generous of you,” Ianthe said, smiling. “And how lucky that carnelians will suit his lady so well, according to your sister. But surely such jewels are a little grand for a
faradhi.
”

“A beautiful woman deserves beautiful things,” Tobin said sweetly. “All the better if the man has the taste to match her bridal necklet to her coloring.”

“No two women are alike,” Rohan agreed blithely, and won a blank stare from Sioned for this idiotic statement. “For Pandsala, for instance, nothing would do but diamonds to match the sparkle in her eyes. And for Ianthe—the darkest of garnets, though they would be poor rivals to the color of her lips.”

“And Lady Sioned?” Ianthe purred.

“Emeralds, of course,” Pandsala said before Rohan could open his mouth. “You do have the most remarkable eyes,” she added to the Sunrunner.

Sioned nodded civil thanks for the compliment. “I would settle for common river stones from a man I truly loved.”

“A man who truly loved you would provide emeralds,” Rohan shot back. “Whoever he may turn out to be, I hope
I
provided him an example in that ring.”

“
You
gave it to her?” Pandsala was shocked into an honest reaction, and Rohan struggled bravely not to laugh.

“He did,” Tobin affirmed. “She saved my sons’ lives on the Hatching Hunt.”

“Not I, your highness,” Sioned protested. “It was Prince Rohan who chased the dragon away.”

“A dragon!” Ianthe exclaimed. “Cousin, you must tell us all the details!”

“I will, at some other time,” he said, rising to his feet. “You ladies must excuse me—I need to talk with Prince Lleyn. We have bet on the next race, and I want to see his face when he loses.” He distributed smiles all around and left the silken battlefield with relief.