so far out of his senses that he attempted to take a mistress, his own retainers would make sure he returned to his right mind in a hurry.
But sooner or later his vassals would start hinting about his childless state. He was fertile; it was Sioned’s inability to carry a child that was the problem. The athr’im honored and respected her; half the letters from Stronghold bore her signature alone, and by now her authority was firmly established. She had studied Desert laws and customs thoroughly; her decisions were wise and fair when she sat in justice alone during Rohan’s absences from Stronghold. But the vassals would want the assurance that only a male heir could give. Rohan shrugged in sudden annoyance that verged on anger. It was as if they considered a woman to be worth no more than the sons she produced, no matter what else she accomplished and how much she gave.
But at least he would not have to deal with any of that for some days yet. His first destination was Remagev Keep, the last of a series of castles that had once reached across the Long Sand all the way to the sea. Through the years the fortresses had been abandoned one by one as the land became impossible to live on, even for the hardiest sheep and goats. Remagev was the only one not in ruins, and from it Rohan’s great-grandsire had begun his reconquest of the Desert and driven the Merida north. His distant cousin Lord Hadaan now held the keep. Childless, the last of his branch of the royal line, he had asked Rohan some time ago to find a worthy athri for Remagev—and part of the reason Ostvel had yielded his usual position to Walvis on this journey was that Rohan intended Hadaan to notice the young man.
After Remagev they would visit Skybowl, then several small manor holdings nestled in the hills, and then Tiglath. Rumor had the Merida poised in the rocky plains for yet another attack. Rohan wondered sourly if they would ever learn. Sioned had discovered a spy this past winter at Stronghold, a wayfarer craving a few nights’ shelter, who had been caught trying to break into Rohan’s private study. She had been all for sending the man back to his people in a large number of small boxes. Gentle as his lady could be, she had a streak of ruthlessness when it came to protecting what was hers—especially Rohan himself. He had ordered that the spy be given a horse but no water, and set him free in the Desert with a few trenchant words of warning for his Merida masters.
But they would never give up. Rohan knew that only too well, and it saddened him. War was such a waste of lives and substance and time. Yet he had no choice. The Merida had sworn to take Stronghold and butcher every member of Rohan’s family. So he must keep fighting, keep pushing them back, keep them penned up where they could work no serious mischief. He cursed the lack of alternatives, but it seemed he would have to live by the sword for some years yet so that his sons could live in peace.
Sons. The forbidden subject again. He called Walvis forward, brows arching as the young man made him a formal bow from his saddle.
“I’m practicing my manners.” Walvis explained. “Lord Hadaan is a real stickler for proper etiquette.”
“When it amuses him—or when he’s got his second eye in! Father used to tell me Hadaan kept the eye he’d lost to a dragon in his pocket and sometimes changed it with the real one when he wanted to scare people. I used to stare at him until my head ached, trying to figure out which was the real one! But I’d like you to keep both your eyes open, Walvis, and take a good look at Remagev for me. I’m considering some changes there. It could turn into a real asset if we put some effort into it. Hadaan is more warrior than athri, and the last time we visited the place was a mess. I’d hate to have to abandon it.”
“I’m no expert yet, though Ostvel’s been teaching me. But I’ll survey the place as best I can, my lord, and tell you what I think.”
Rohan turned the conversation to other things, satisfied with his ploy. Walvis would come away from Remagev excited about plans for renovating it and remain unaware of who