now be considered the legitimate boundaries of our lands, to be revised as necessary in three years’ time. I further propose that any prince who attacks another be swiftly punished by the rest of us.”
Saumer frowned. “Let me understand this, Roelstra. If, say, Haldor attacks Chale over a few square measures that are in dispute—”
“Then I would be there with all my armies as soon as I could to defend Prince Haldor’s rights. And those of us on the border of Meadowlord or Syr—Prince Rohan, for instance—would come to Haldor’s defense as well. It would take much of the profit out of war, and we could cease spending our substance on useless wars.”
“I like it,” Ajit of Firon declared.
“So do I,” said Saumer, with an eye on Volog, who smiled.
“May I speak?” Rohan heard himself say.
“Please do, cousin,” Roelstra replied graciously.
“I think that Prince Lleyn should be the ultimate arbiter of any serious disputes. These are not matters for Lady Andrade to decide, and on his island Lleyn has little interest in who owns what on the continent.”
“Are you agreeable to this proposal, Lleyn?”
The old man bowed to the High Prince. “I shall do myself the honor of accepting the task.”
Sanity at last, Rohan thought gratefully.
“I hope,” Roelstra went on, “that we will be able to work out differences between ourselves without bothering Lleyn.” The hint was not missed by a single man present, not even Saumer.
“And now, my lords, we deserve a rest. Prince Vissarion has kindly provided refreshment in his tent. We meet back here this afternoon.”
Rohan escaped from the close atmosphere of the violet tent and drew up the hood of his cloak against the rain. The morning had not been quite the disaster he’d feared at one point, but there were many things he had to think through. He needed privacy, and there was none to be found in his own camp. At Stronghold he could have disappeared for hours as he chose, but where could a prince hide at the Rialla?
He went down to the river, hoping no one else would venture out in the rain for a stroll, and from the corner of his eye caught sight of Meath slinking around the trees on the opposite shore. He supposed he ought to be reassured by the zeal of those who watched over him, but the constant surveillance annoyed him, too. Briefly he considered making a game of it, trying to outwit the faradhi, but the dutiful portion of him forbade it. He would be an idiot to go off alone without escort, what with the Merida possibly roaming around.
Rohan finally saw the perfect place for privacy: the steps leading up to the bridge. He felt a little foolish as he slid beneath them and hunkered down out of the rain, but Meath could think what he liked. He drew his cloak more tightly around him—like a dragon with wings folded against the rain, he told himself with a grin. The wooden planks above leaked a little, and he shifted around to find a spot where he wouldn’t get dripped on, finally settling down snug and hidden from prying eyes.
The morning had not been so bad, he reflected, though Roelstra’s suggestion about mutual aid and defense troubled him. The possibilities for mischief were endless. He set himself to thinking as the High Prince might—something far too easy for his peace of mind—and the scenes that played out in his head were far from reassuring. Any attack, no matter who arranged it, would compel the other princes into punitive action. Questions would come only later—if the fighting stopped. For there were factions among the princes that would not vanish in the face of any treaty. Athr’im picked fights with each other all the time, more often than not on the orders of their princes, who usually kept out of the actual battles. Rohan’s own father had used the tactic often enough, though he had loved fighting and was always in the thick of any minor war. Rohan, however, had no intention of living that way.
But he could easily imagine a force of mercenaries laying siege to a keep and placing the blame on someone else. High Prince Roelstra could march through in the attacked prince’s defense—and work whatever damage he cared to inflict. By the time everything had been sorted out, no one would be certain what had happened.
Still, perhaps everyone would think twice now about making war. Localized conflicts were one thing; major wars were