Chay drew patterns in the sand with one finger. “He doesn’t need the Desert crown hanging over his head. In many ways he’s like me, Tobin. We’re good at things on a Radzyn scale, but we’d be hopeless at running a whole princedom.”
“I don’t agree with you, but I understand what you’re trying to say. You’d both be unhappy living anywhere but here by the sea. It’s taken Maarken quite a while to adjust to Lleyn’s court, much as he’s fond of the old prince. Meath has told me on the sunlight that he did better once they gave him a room overlooking the bay.”
“Where else could we have sent him? There’s no safer place. Whether we like it or not, he’s Rohan’s heir.”
“No one would dare attempt Maarken’s life!”
“Not while he’s in Lleyn’s care, no. But where do you think Roelstra would stop? And, failing him, the Merida? They don’t have any tender feelings toward me, you know. Graypearl is the only place for Maarken until he’s old enough to defend himself.” He smiled slightly. “Even if he does get sick crossing water. Should we have expected that?”
“Andrade seemed to. And he’s working with Meath and Eolie.” Her hands clenched around the sand. “Damn Roelstra!”
“And Rohan wants to get within spitting distance of Ianthe.” Chay shook his head. “My love, have I ever told you that your brother is a fool?”
“I’ve known him longer than you have. He’s fool enough to go for the throat of anyone who suggests anything about Sioned. Are you sure there’s nothing we can do or say to keep the vassals quiet? They’re bound to mention it.”
“They can try,” he answered grimly. “We’ll just have to trust what little sense Rohan has to keep Sioned from acting on any insane ideas.” He squinted into the morning sunlight and got to his feet. “Sails coming in, and a turquoise banner. The Syrene ship finally made it.”
“From Prince Jastri? What does he want? And why come in a ship?”
“He wants horses. What else? And the ship means he wants them fast. I’m only a minor athri, love. I trade in what I understand, and leave the fancy politics to others.” He helped her to her feet. “I’ll send Jastri’s emissary around to you after we’ve finished haggling over horseflesh. You hear things in people’s words that I never do.”
“Minor athri,” she scoffed. “Warlord bred of ten generations of pirates—and legalized thief into the bargain.”
“Makes me the perfect mate for dragon’s spawn like you, doesn’t it?”
Sioned stood at her windows, watching the sand and sky. She had never seen so many colors as there were here in the Desert. She had not expected this bounty when she married Rohan, had not dreamed that her faradhi senses would find shades of light here that she had never seen anywhere else.
Her childhood home of River Run had been painted in blue and green, lush with flowers and the brilliant plumage of birds. Goddess Keep’s sunsets were the amazement of all who saw them. She had traveled through sunny farmland and shadowed forest, absorbing the colors of abundant life. But after six years of watching the seasons change, she was still caught by the colors unique to this harsh land: Each sunrise over the Long Sand brought subtle variations on blue and red and yellow; clouds sometimes streaked the dawn sky like wind-blown wheat sheaves tinted a thousand different colors. The blazing noon sun showed her frail silvers and palest golds across the sands, ruddy darknesses stealing along the rocks, and white so pure it hurt her eyes. Evening, especially in spring and autumn, created a rosy glow and strange greenish shadows that faded to purple along the dunes and wrapped Stronghold in mysterious warmth as night fell. And the stars—she had always thought them mere pinpricks of shining in the sky, but in the Desert she felt their colors, scarlets and blues and fiery oranges that sparked her senses. Most of all she loved the colors she sensed in the stars.
Most would say the Desert was lifeless. Except for small, isolated places, there were no trees, no grass, no flowers; no creatures singing to each other in the wastes; no rivers glinting with fish; no crops, no fruit ripening amid broad leaves. It was unlike any place Sioned had ever lived, yet she knew there was life here. She could touch it with her faradhi senses. The life of