I believe: no great clap of thunder nor act of wizards and queens will bring change. It will be all of us, making small choices, intimate ones. That is why the stars offer no clarity. There is no one moment, one choice to point to. The stars see a thousand possibilities, a thousand paths, and they all intersect on the Longest Night.”
“So there is nothing we can do.”
“Oh, we can always act, my witch. And we must. It is within our actions that we will find salvation.”
“What should I do?” Connley knew Rowan would have a plan for him, a command.
But instead, the prince lifted Connley’s hand and kissed it softly. “You must do what you feel to be right. When the wind and the stars will not tell us what to do, we much choose for ourselves.”
PRINCE HAL
Dondubhan, early winter
IT DID NOT take long for Innis Lear to discover how difficult it was not to fall in love with Hal Bolinbroke.
Too bad Hotspur strove to resist her charms.
Since her first night at Dondubhan, when Mora had said, “I know what is mine, and what I can take,” Hal had seen a new sharpness in Mora, a burning for vengeance, not justice.
Once a mission of revenge was set, there was no arguing with it. Hal could only focus on Hotspur. If she could win the Wolf of Aremoria back to her side, with Hotspur would come Perseria and possibly even Mercia. That would be enough: Banna Mora and Innis Lear could not defeat a united Aremoria. The plan was a long shot, for Hotspur would need to be convinced to act against this new family, and once her loyalty was given, it did not waver.
But Hotspur had pledged loyalty to Hal once, too.
Fortunately, Hal had been born with the gift of making friends. Even considering that perhaps a fourth of those spending the winter at Dondubhan were openly hostile to the prince of Aremoria, Hal made quick allies. It was the plain way she had of smiling, and her honesty (so she’d claim if asked), and of course her charm. Within a week, Rowan Lear commented that it seemed Hal Bolinbroke could read hearts better than any witch. Him she’d approached with a conversation angled toward star science and the astrolabe gifted to him from Celedrix, asked him how he found impending fatherhood, and ended by complimenting him through a compliment of his mother. Most people tried to pretend he was like Glennadoer instead, assuming there would lie his pleasure. But Hal guessed otherwise, and correctly.
Because she could not approach Hotspur directly—for the Wolf had no problem turning abruptly away or finding plentiful work to separate her from the prince—Hal would have to simply befriend the entire fortress until there was no corner in which Hotspur could hide.
Hal woke midmornings, lazy in her efforts to meet any dawn exercise, especially in cold like this. She ate a quick breakfast and joined the Aremore soldiers at their temporary barracks in the lower yard of the fortress, which they shared with the Learish retainers, all packed into the stone long house rather like puppies. But it was warmer than canvas tents. If Hal was late enough she had to bully some soldiers into a run with her, out along the banks of the Tarinnish, or a war game in the yard. Catrin Glennadoer appeared whenever Hal did and was more than willing to support Hal’s tardy exercises. Though Hal made invitations every day, Hotspur refused to join, though she allowed her retainers to participate.
It was a winter house party, and the midday meal tended to be loud and casual. Though Solas and Ryrie arrived when the sun was at its zenith and remained until all the fortress had eaten—often two hours later—the rest of the household came when they were hungry, with no accordance to station as there would be in Aremoria. Hal relished the mess of it, and though she always began at the queen’s side, she floated to different tables, using the opportunity to befriend the Errigal duke and the Glennadoers—Donnan Glennadoer, the earl’s mother, was an old canker, and Hal promised herself to get the beast to smile before she left—as well as the local reeve, the ostlers and blacksmiths and royal secretaries, and even the little pages and their families.
Afternoons were for hunting, if the day was lovely (as lovely as winter on Innis Lear could be), or remaining by fires if not. They hunted big game twice