Dragon Prince 01 - Dragon Prince (35 page)

It crossed his drowsy mind that he must be picking up some of her conjuring abilities, for she was almost real in his arms, her soft lips caressing his forehead and her slim fingers stroking his cheek. He smiled and reached for her, finding it entirely natural that there were indeed smooth shoulders beneath his palms, the skin warm velvet. She sat on the bed beside him and began a greedy exploration of his body. As she pushed aside the blanket for access he gasped aloud, eyes wide as her hand cradled his stirring flesh.

“Shhh,” she whispered, placing her fingers on his lips. He kissed them, wishing the lamp was closer to the bed so he could see her face. The soft light from the glass-shaded candle on the far table combined with the glow of the watchfire filtering through the tent walls to backlight her night-darkened hair. She continued her caresses, sensations he’d never known existed ripping through his body.

“Stop,” he said at last. “My turn, damn it, girl—” He was surprised to hear his voice so thick and throaty. He slid his hands down her arms, back up to her shoulders, along her breasts that were covered by silk warmed with the heat of her body. He clasped her waist in his hands and pulled her closer.

And froze.

Slender enough, but not as firm as he remembered. Pliant now, the way her shoulders and arms had been, with a slight covering of soft flesh between bones and skin. But he knew Sioned to be firmly muscled, very strong, not sleek-fleshed like this. A scent of rich perfume came from her body, not the clean fragrance of wind and wild things he had come to associate with her.

This was not Sioned.

A sudden flare of fire outside in the brazier reshaped and sharpened the shadows within the tent. The woman turned her head in alarm, and Rohan got a good look at her profile. The violence of his reaction made him shove her completely off the bed and she sprawled on the carpet, sobbing for breath.

“Ianthe,” he whispered at the same time the guards outside shouted that there was fire.

“Hide me!” she pleaded frantically. “If anyone finds me here—”

“Get out! I don’t give a damn what happens to you!” He rose and tore the blanket from the bed to cover his nakedness, feeling sick. “I’ll distract them, but you’ll have to run fast. Go on!”

“Rohan, please—”

Her face was eerily lit in blue by the flames through the silken tent. “You
want
to be found in here with me!”

“Yes!”

He hauled her up by an elbow and shook her. “Did you think you’d force me into marriage by tricking me into dishonoring you? You fool! Get out!”

“You wanted me!” she flung at him.

“Shut up.” He pulled her over to the entrance and drew one of the flaps aside. The guards were trying to stamp out the small fire that had leaped from the brazier onto the grass. “If you’re here when I come back, I’ll see to it everyone knows you for the whore you are. Wait until I’ve got their attention, then run!”

He pushed through the flaps and tightened the blanket around his waist, feeling a total fool. He ordered the guards to run and get water buckets; they obeyed. Only he glimpsed Ianthe’s flight. Other people emerged sleepy-eyed from their tents, and Rohan sent them back with calming words. The fire was out, and there was no more danger.

When all was quiet, he returned to the brazier. The green grass should not have caught fire. He inspected the patch that was now soaked with water, expecting to find it charred. It was not. There had been no fire—not of the usual kind.

Rohan looked around him, and in the far shadows thought he saw a slim shape in a dark dress. He started for her, but one of the guards approached him with apologies.

“My lord, I don’t know how it happened! The fire leaped right up out of the brazier!”

“Never mind. No damage done.” He went back inside his tent, for the shadow had vanished. Just inside the doorway he stopped as his bare feet contacted a few small, hard objects on the carpet. He bent, picked them up, and slowly smiled. How had she gotten them in here? he wondered. While Ianthe was leaving and he was speaking to the others? It seemed probable.

“So you yourself were watching over me tonight,” he whispered. “May I always defend you as effectively, love.”

He held the stones a little while longer, then placed them in his jewel coffer next to the emeralds he’d won that day.

A
gainst every evidence of the night’s wispy clouds, the next dawn saw a prodigious downpour that kept everyone in their tents until at least noon. Most of the highborns woke at the first thunder, heard the rain, shrugged, and rolled over to go back to sleep. Their suites did much the same, except for a few luckless souls who had to get fires started in anticipation of the inevitable morning calls for steaming hot taze later on.

Lady Palila’s servants on board the barge were fortunate. They had no need to rig up protection for cookfires, and could provide her and her early guest with a full breakfast prepared in the galley. If they were astounded that it was Princess Pandsala who shared their mistress’ meal, they spoke of it only in whispers, and only among themselves.

“So Ianthe tried to make a whore of herself last night,” Palila said, her eyes mirroring the satisfaction in Pandsala’s. “From what I’ve seen of our golden-haired hero, he’s not the type to appreciate it.”

“You should have seen her, coming back to the tent with her hair in tangles and her feet covered in dirt.” Pandsala laughed.

“She’s still there, pretending she went for a walk and took a chill so she won’t have to face anyone. I wish her much joy of Naydra’s remedies.”

“And Lenala’s scintillating conversation! It was good of you to come tell me about it and keep me company this morning. I do believe I’ve done you an injustice all these years, Sala. We work well together.”

“We have much to gain and we both hate Ianthe. That makes us natural allies.”

“Well, she’s ruined herself this time. Even if Roelstra doesn’t hear of this, our noble Prince Rohan will never have her now. I would say your cause has been won, my dear.”

“Not quite.” Pandsala stirred her taze with a golden spoon tipped by an amethyst. “There’s something about that Sunrunner girl that bothers me. He never has a soft word for her, and she’s barely polite to him. But Tobin and Andrade are both pushing for her. Rohan seems just pliable enough to give in if the two of them try hard enough.”

“I don’t think Rohan’s that stupid,” Palila mused. “And they’re reckoning without your determination to have him, of course. Besides, the girl’s
faradhi
, without family to speak of—no matter what Tobin says about her connections to Syr and Kierst. She can’t offer anything approaching what you can.”

“I still wish she was out of the way.” She poured fresh cups of taze and gave one to Palila. “It wasn’t wise of you to come all the way from Castle Crag with your time so near, you know. We don’t want you delivering early in a place where we can’t control events.”

“Why do you think I insisted on bringing those other women along? It took me hours to convince your father that I needed their care and company as well as that of my own maids. A pity one of
them
didn’t get pregnant when I did.”

“You’re not due for another thirty days or so,” Pandsala said, looking her over with a critical eye. “Although I must say you’re big enough to be at least that long overdue.”

Palila hid her annoyance at this reminder of her bulk. “Goddess forbid I should have to carry a child past the usual term!”

“Even a son?” Pandsala asked archly. “I’ve found all the drugs we’ll need, by the way. It wasn’t difficult. There are merchants enough here so I could buy one thing here, another there. A swallow or two of drugged wine, and they’ll start labor pains almost at once. We’ve thought of everything.”

“Unless all four of us produce daughters.” Palila picked at her nails, frowning. “To be really safe, we should have brought the other two with us.”

“Impossible. Even Father would find that suspicious, even though he hardly knows a woman is alive when she’s pregnant.”

Neither did Palila appreciate this reference to Roelstra’s distaste for child-heavy women. “I told him I wanted their company—and deathly dull it is, too. If I didn’t need them, I’d have them all deprived of their tongues now instead of later. Listening to them is sheer torment. But I have to have them with me a few hours every day for appearances’ sake. I depend on you for rational conversation.”

“And news of what goes on at the
Rialla.
It’s a pity you can’t be up and about more.”

This, too, was a sore point, and Palila did not bother hiding her irritation this time. Roelstra insisted she attend the important functions—the banqueting, the Lastday ceremonies—but she had no energy and her feet had swollen right out of every pair of shoes she owned. At previous
Riall’im
she had been constantly at his side, admired, coveted, envied. But last night there had been many women who had dared to flirt with Roelstra—and in Palila’s presence, too. It was infuriating to be so huge and indolent and sickly. Her son would have much to answer for once he was born.

“Sioned worries me,” Pandsala said, returning to her former theme. “She isn’t anything special in looks or wits, but there’s something about her—”

“So you’ve said,” Palila responded impatiently. “I tell you, Sala, don’t bother about her. Now that Ianthe’s own foolishness has ruined her, you need have no concerns. On the Lastday feast I see you standing with Prince Rohan as his bride.”

The picture enchanted the princess, who laughed gleefully. “Did I tell you what he said yesterday about my eyes? My bridal necklet will be of diamonds!”

“Delightful,” Palila said, trying to sound enthusiastic. “But now that your new position is assured, we ought to make some plans. I’ll get your father to give you Feruche as a wedding present, and through the pass there we’ll be able to control much trade—to our mutual profit, as we planned, with no one the wiser. Our sons will be very rich men.”

“Very rich princes,” Pandsala corrected silkily. “And the firmest of friends.”

Palila smiled her sweetest smile. “Naturally, my dear! Now, we really ought to be planning what you’ll wear on the Lastday ceremonies.”

They spent the rest of the morning discussing Pandsala’s wedding gown, these two strange and dangerous allies.

Sioned was less fortunate in her physical circumstances. Instead of a snug, dry cabin on board Roelstra’s barge—something a Sunrunner would not have appreciated anyway—she was stuck inside a leaky tent. No sooner did she and Camigwen and Hildreth stop one drip than another began. The beds were damp and the wet wool carpet smelled awful. But there was nowhere to go for escape, and when Cami suggested a game of chess to take their minds off their misery, Sioned gladly agreed.

But her mind was not on the game. She could not stop thinking about what she had seen the previous night. Had Rohan welcomed Ianthe? Had the Fire interrupted the first caresses of their lovemaking? Sioned’s response to Roelstra’s advances had educated her most painfully in the fascinations of his deadly breed. Had Rohan felt the same?

She lost to Cami in less than fifteen moves. Rising, she grabbed up a cloak and pulled the hood up over her hair. “I’m going for a walk.”

“You’ll catch a chill,” Hildreth warned.

“This is the cloak Tobin lent me—see?” She spread its folds to show the fur lining. “I’ll be warm enough.” As Cami began her own protest, Sioned exclaimed, “I have to get out of here!”

She pushed aside the sopping tent flaps and started walking. The cloak, made for the much shorter Tobin, reached only to Sioned’s knees. She knew she must look absurd, but there was nobody to notice her in her rich crimson cloak over plain riding clothes. A few guards huddled beneath the slight shelter of entry overhangs; a servant or two hurried through the rain on errands. Sioned left the maze of tents for the river and crossed the bridge to the Fair. The booths were shut down and deserted, bright hangings drenched, wood dark with rain. The merchants had taken their wares back to the tent village over the hill for safety and protection from the storm, and undoubtedly sat cursing the weather that deprived them of a day’s sales. Deserted, silent, the place looked like a battlefield, lacking only corpses and black-winged birds to pick the bones clean.

Sioned gave an annoyed shrug at the grim turn of her thoughts, and kept walking up the crest of a hill, where a small wood provided welcome if inadequate shelter. Damn Rohan’s leaky tents. Damn Rohan.

Hunkering down beside dripping ferns, she forced herself to think things through once again. It wasn’t even last night’s scene that was bothering her, she admitted privately; she could understand if Rohan had desired Ianthe for a time. She had felt the same around Ianthe’s father. The trouble lay deeper, and she looked down at her rings with a bitter smile twisting her lips.

What would Andrade say if she knew what Sioned had done to that Merida? Meaning only to frighten, her conjuring had killed. Worse, she felt no real remorse over the man’s death. He had tried to kill Rohan; that was reason enough for him to die.

She tried to believe she hated Rohan for doing this to her. The truth was she hated herself for allowing it to happen. She hadn’t meant for the wine steward at Stronghold to die either, but he had, his mind pulled apart by two Sunrunners warring for control. Sioned was partly responsible. But she could not feel much remorse over him, either.

She had killed for Rohan and she did not even have the excuse yet of being his princess. What would happen in the future, when she could hide behind that convenient obligation? Rohan’s power over her was terrifying, but it was power she had given him along with her heart and her mind. She could be his princess only—and feel like only half a person if she gave up being a
faradhi.

It must be possible to balance them, be both Sunrunner and princess. Andrade would never have done this if it was impossible to be both. No prince or princess had ever been an active Sunrunner as well; it was too dangerous. She huddled more deeply into her cloak and closed her eyes, wondering why Andrade should think her strong enough to resist using her power if her husband or her lands were in need. Sioned had not intended to kill, but that was no excuse. She had shattered a
faradhi
’s most binding vow in Rohan’s defense.