to the pleading fingers she held out to him—and when he looked up again, at Ostvel this time, his eyes were incandescent with furious hurt.
“You should know better,” he said very softly, “than to interfere in the affairs of Sunrunners, my lord.”
Tobin understood then why Andrade and Urival did not want Pol taught by the new Lord of Goddess Keep. She raged silently at her kinswoman for showing Andry everything of how power was used and nothing of when not to use it. Andry lifted his hands, scant four rings glittering—and Fire gathered between his fingers to outblaze even that in his eyes.
Sickened, Riyan took a step toward Andry. “At least be honest about it,” he rasped. “You don’t give a damn about what he did for Lyell and Kiele.”
Andry didn’t seem to hear. Ostvel pushed Alasen toward Sioned and faced the young man, his eyes like winter.
The Lord of Goddess Keep held the sphere of Fire cupped between his hands, cold white-gold Fire like captured starshine, giving off light but no warmth. He looked briefly at Urival. “You should have read more in the scrolls,” he murmured.
“And you should never have read them at all. I’m the only one who can give you the ten rings, Andry. Stop this or you’ll never wear them. You may put them around your fingers, but they’ll stay hollow.”
The fury shone in his eyes, the Fire in his hands.
“Andry.” Rohan spoke into the terrible silence. “Please.”
The pale flames wavered as he heard the High Prince, his cherished uncle, say that word to him. He looked once more at Alasen’s tear-streaked face, then down at the Fire. It died softly. The lines of his face crumpled into anguish for just an instant before he straightened his shoulders, his expression one of desperate pride.
“I regret. . . .” He bit his lip and tried again, and his mother moaned softly for the pain she could never comfort. “My Lord Urival, there’s nothing to keep us here. Tomorrow morning we leave for Goddess Keep.” Alone, his eyes said as one last time he looked at Alasen. He swept his gaze around the other faces, then bowed slightly to Rohan. He left the tent swiftly, not quite running.
Sorin was gone into the night after him before anyone could tell him not to. Chay slumped into a chair and covered his face with his hands.
“Gentle Goddess,” he said in a muffled voice. “Why didn’t I see? He’s my son.” His hands dropped to his knees and he met Urival’s gaze. “Stay with him. Help him. He’s so young, Urival. He’s so young.”
Tobin shook off Hollis’ tender hand, stumbled into Pol’s private chamber alone, and wept.
It was nearly dawn before Sioned gathered enough courage to ask.
“Beloved . . . how did you know what to say?”
Rohan turned his long-empty winecup between his hands. “His pride had been demolished. I had to restore it.” He looked up with a bitter smile. “How many people have ever heard the High Prince plead?”
She nodded at his wisdom. “He might have killed Ostvel.”
“I know. I understand it. I was about his age when I found you. If I’d lost you the way he lost Alasen—I might have been tempted to do the same thing.”
Shocked, she protested, “You would never have—”
“Wouldn’t I? Love is even more powerful than those faradhi gifts of yours, Sioned. Romantics would call us living proof of that.”
“So you understood his pride, and humbled your own.” She hesitated a moment. “Pol won’t.”
“No. But maybe he won’t have to.” Rohan set the cup aside and got to his feet, moving like an old man. “He’ll have Urival’s knowledge. And power much different than Andry’s.”
“You’re not talking about being High Prince.”
“Oh, no. Not that at all.”
Chapter Thirty-one
Volog rode with them as far as the Faolain crossing, where in a sun-washed meadow he gave his most beloved daughter to Ostvel in marriage. On the same day Sioned fulfilled two promises: to stand with Hollis as she married Maarken, and to provide token of the union. She helped Maarken, whose injured hand was still useless, fasten around his new wife’s throat a necklet of silver leaves clasping sapphire flowers. Then Sioned gave Hollis a simple chain made of gold to place around Maarken’s neck. Three of its broad, flat links were studded with a ruby, a diamond, and a faceted chunk of translucent amber taken from one of Andrade’s rings.
A prince’s authority in recognizing marriages was equal to that of the Lord or Lady