“As bad as that?” Alderic asked, searching Ruyven’s face. Ruyven nodded, grimly.
“We are, as I said, at the center of the storm; at peace for a moment, no more. Carolin has need of all the leronyn he can summon to his side, ‘Deric.”
Romilly interrupted, “What is this? If you are not Carolin’s son-”
Alderic said quietly, “My father is called Orain, and he is foster-brother and friend of Carolin. I was reared at Carolin’s court.”
She reached for his hand with sudden confidence. She should have guessed, when he had spoken of the way in which his father could not endure to look on him. Carolin, even in an unwanted dynastic marriage, could have shown courtesy and kindness to a woman; but, as reward for her moment of foolishness, she had seen straight into Orain’s heart. She was sorry for Alderic that he had not known a father’s love; for now she knew how blessed she had been in that love.
“I am the king’s hawkmistress,” she said, “and he will have need of my bird soon, if we are to meet Rakhal again on the field of war. And, no doubt, your father is with him.”
“I doubt it not at all,” Alderic said, “He is never far from the side of his king. When I was younger, I hated him for that, and resented it because he cared more for Carolin’s sons, and even Lyondri Hastur’s little son, than for me.” He shrugged and signed. “The world will go as it will; love cannot be compelled, even within kin, and to such a man as my father, my very existence must have been a painful reminder of an unhappy time in his life. I owe Orain a son’s duty – may I never fail in it – but no more. Kinship, I sometimes think, is a joke the gods play, to bind us to those we do not love, in the hope we can somehow be reconciled to them; but friends are a gift, and your father has been a friend, almost a foster-father to me. When we are free of this war-” he touched her hand lightly. “We need not speak of that now. But I think you know what I would say.”
She did not look at him. There had been a time, indeed, when she had thought she would willingly have married this man. But much had happened to her in the year since then. She had desired Orain himself, even though he had not wanted her. And Ranald . . . what had happened with Ranald was not the sort of thing which led to marriage, nor would a Drylands lord be likely to marry a mountain Swordswoman; indeed, she did not think she would marry him if he asked, and there was no reason he should. Their bodies had accepted one another joyfully, but that was under unusual conditions; she would have accepted any man she supposed, who had come to her and offered surcease from what was so tumultuous within her. But apart from that, they knew little of one another. And if Alderic knew she was not the virtuous maiden she had been a Falconsward, would he even want her?
She said, “When this war is done, Lord Alderic-”
“Call me Deric, as your brother does,” he interrupted her. “Ruyven and I are bredin, and as friend to both your brothers, I owe you always a brother’s protection, even if no more.”
“I am a Swordswoman Deric,” she said. “I need no man’s protection, but I will gladly have your friendship. That, I think, I had, even at Falconsward. As for anything more than friendship, I think-” uncontrollably, her voice was shaking. “We should not even speak of that, until we are free of this accursed war!”
“I am grateful for your honesty, Romilly,” he said. “I would not want a woman who would marry me just because I am the son of Carolin’s chief counselor and friend. My father married because the old king wished to honor his son’s foster-brother by giving him in marriage to a high-born lady; they despised one another, and I have suffered for that; I would not wish my own children torn by hatred between their parents, and I have always sworn that I would marry no woman unless we were, at least, friends.” His eyes, levelled and gentle, met hers, and for some reason the kindness in them made her want to cry.