him many times before and would listen to the wonder of his voice again, so she took the time to judge how Sioned was faring.
The girl looked magnificent, of course. But strain showed around her heavily made-up eyes, and beneath the artful pink salves her cheeks and lips were pale. Andrade prayed she would last the evening, and guessed that Rohan was thinking the same. His own looks were serene, but whenever he glanced at Sioned there was worry in his eyes and a tightness to his smile.
“An exquisite couple,” Lleyn observed. “The girl outshines the stars.”
Andrade sipped at a goblet of iced water and eyed him over its rim. “You’re about to start your interrogation, aren’t you?”
“ ‘Questioning’ is so much more polite a word,” he replied, unruffled. “They say many odd things about the fire on Roelstra’s ship.”
“Indeed.”
“A pity he lost his fabulous mistress—and her child.”
“The mistress,” Andrade answered curtly, “is cinders. But the child lives.”
“Ah.” He did not inquire further, and she knew it was a deliberate ploy to irritate her. Tonight, however, he could not succeed. She smiled at him and took another swallow of water.
But Lleyn was older than she, just as autocratic, and interested in the politics of the continent only for its entertainment value. He waited her out. Andrade knew he was waiting her out, and finally relented, but with another smile.
“Very well. I’ve taken the baby—and Pandsala, too. You don’t seem surprised.”
“At my age, very little surprises me. Roelstra has given it out privately that his daughter wishes to become a faradhi, so I already knew about Pandsala, you see. I’m curious, though. Can she learn your ways?”
“I haven’t tested her yet.” Singing and applause covered their conversation nicely, not that anyone around them was interested in the dull chat of two old folks. “Sickness on water is only the most obvious sign. Not every faradhi experiences it.”
“I thought only those who blanched at the very thought could become Sunrunners.”
“I have a theory about that,” she mused. “It might be a weakness that shows up so often because of inbreeding. We do tend to marry our own kind, you know.”
“Has it always been that way? The sickness on water, I mean.”
“For some, yes. But it seems to be getting more and more common since we left your island.” Andrade chuckled as the old man’s eyes widened. “Aha! I’ve caught you! That’s something you didn’t know, isn’t it? Meddling old gossip,” she accused teasingly.
“You fascinate me, my Lady,” he murmured. “Please continue.”
“You know the ruins on the other side of Dorval from Graypearl. A keep once stood there, even more imposing than the one I now rule. Its walls stood for a thousand years before the farad-h’im themselves tore the castle down.”
Lleyn nodded slowly. “My father and I did some poking around there when I was a lad. Wonderful old place. I still have a few coins and bits of tile I collected back then. Why did they leave?”
“They chose to go out into the world—or perhaps return to it from exile, I’m not all that sure. The records are incomplete. They’d wrapped themselves in ritual and mysticism, and then for some reason rejected that way of life.”
“What about the circle of trees on the bluff near the rains? Was that theirs as well?”
“Doubtless, although I didn’t know about that.”
Lleyn grinned. “I ought to follow up my advantage and gloat a bit that I knew something you didn’t. You needn’t ask—I’ll have Meath and Eolie investigate. But right now I’d like to hear about your ancient faradh’im.”
“Isolated on your island of silk and pearls and gold—who can say why they left? But there’s no mention in the records of their being ill during the crossing, which leads me to believe it’s a fairly recent trait. I’ve never discovered exactly how the gift is passed on, though. Urival and I have been trying to puzzle it out in the genealogies for years. It’s not linked to either male or female. Whole generations can go by without its showing up. Sioned’s family, for instance. You’ll know about the connection with Syr through the father’s line, but through the mother she’s related to Volog of Kierst.”
Lleyn sat up a little straighter. “The Sunrunner who was stolen away by Prince—what was his name?”
“Sinar. Yes—her grandmother. I’ve been waiting for Volog to make the connection. He’ll consider it useful when dealing with Rohan.”
“I don’t wonder. But your Sioned—or perhaps I should say Rohan’s Sioned—she’s the first one to