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quite as foolish as it sounds-it was a useful training expedition. And
something more."
She kept her head high, her eyes fixed on the windows. But every timbre of his
voice registered within her. Something more. Is a falcon not a falcon if it
does not fly alone?
"How did you cross the river?" Duke Niavin of Seresh asked, with no little
interest. He had them all now, Kevin saw; the first great lie now covered with
successive layers of truth.
"With Loren's arrows, actually, and a taut rope across. But don't tell him,"
Diarmuid grinned easily, despite a dagger in his arm, "or I'll never, ever
hear the end of it."
"Too late!" someone said from behind them, halfway down the hall.
They all turned. Loren was there, clad for the first time since the crossing
in his cloak of power, shot through with many colors that shaded into silver.
And beside him was the one who had spoken.
"Behold," said Loren Silvercloak, "I bring you the Twiceborn of the prophecy.
Here is Pwyll the
Stranger who has come back to us, Lord of the Summer Tree." He had time to
finish, barely, before there came an utterly undecorous scream from the Seer
of Brennin, and a second figure hurtled over the balcony of the overhead
gallery, shouting with relief and joy as he fell.
Kim got there first, to envelop Paul in a fierce, strangling embrace that was
returned, as hard, by him. There were tears of happiness in her eyes as she
stepped aside to let Kevin and Paul stand face to face. She was grinning, she
knew, like a fool. "Amigo," said Paul, and smiled. "Welcome back,"
said Kevin simply, and then all the nobility of Brennin watched in respectful
silence as the two of them embraced.
Kevin stepped back, his eyes bright. "You did it," he said flatly. "You're
clear now, aren't you?"
And Paul smiled again. "I am," he said.
Sharra, watching, not understanding anything beyond the intensity, saw
Diarmuid walk forward then to the two of them, and she marked the pleasure in
his eyes, which was unfeigned and absolute.
"Paul," he said, "this is a bright thread unlooked-for. We were mourning you."
Schafer nodded.
"I'm sorry about your father." "It was time, I think," said Diarmuid. They,
too, embraced, and as they did so, the stillness of the hall was shattered by
a great noise over their heads as Diarmuid's men roared and clattered their
swords. Paul raised a hand to salute them back.
Then the mood changed, the interlude was over, for Aileron had come forward,
too, to stand in front of Paul as Diarmuid stepped aside.
For what seemed like forever, the two men gazed at each other, their
expressions equally unreadable. No one there could know what had passed
between them in the Godwood two nights before, but what lay in the room was
palpable, and a thing very deep.
"Mörnir be praised," Aileron said, and dropped to his knees before Paul.
A moment later, everyone in the room but Kevin Laine and the three women had
done the same.
His heart tight with emotion, Kevin suddenly understood a truth about Aileron.
This, this was how he led, by pure force of example and conviction. Even
Diarmuid, he saw, had followed his brother's lead.
His eyes met Kim's across the heads of the kneeling brothers. Not clearly
knowing what it was he was acquiescing to, he nodded, and was moved to see the
relief that showed in her face. She wasn't, it seemed, such a stranger after
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all, white hair notwithstanding.
Aileron rose again, and so did all the others. Paul had not moved or spoken.
He seemed to be conserving his strength. Quietly the Prince said, "We are
grateful beyond measure for what you have woven."
Schafer's mouth moved in what was only half a smile. "I didn't take your death
after all," he said.
Aileron stiffened; without responding, he spun and walked back to the throne.
Ascending the steps, he turned again to face them all, his eyes compelling.
"Rakoth is free," he said. "The stones are broken and we are at war with the
Dark. I say to all of you, to you, my brother"-a sudden rawness in the
voice-"I tell you that this conflict is what I was born for. I have sensed it
all my life without knowing. Now I know. It is my destiny. It is," cried
Aileron, passion blazing in his face, "my war!"
The power of it was overwhelming, a cry of conviction torn whole from the
heart. Even Jaelle's bitter eyes held a kind of acceptance, and there was no
mockery at all in Diarmuid's face.
"You arrogant bastard," Paul Schafer said.
It was like a kick in the teeth. Even Kevin felt it. He saw Aileron's head
snap back, his eyes go wide with shock.
"How presumptuous can you get?" Paul went on, stepping forward to stand before
Aileron. "Your death. Your crown. Your destiny. Your war. Your war?" His voice
skirled upward. He put a hand on the table for support.
"Pwyll," said Loren. "Paul, wait."
"No!" Schafer snapped. "I hate this, and I hate giving in to it." He turned
back to Aileron. "What about the lios alfar?" he demanded. "Loren tells me
twenty of them have died already. What about
Cathal? Isn't it their war, too?" He pointed to Sharra. "And Eridu? And the
Dwarves? Isn't this Matt
Sören's war? And what about the Dalrei? There are two of them here now, and
seventeen of them have died. Seventeen of the Dalrei are dead. Dead! Isn't it
their war, Prince Aileron? And look at us. Look at Kim-look at her, at what
she's taken on for you. And"-his voice roughened-"think about
Jen, if you will, just for a second, before you lay sole claim to this."
There was a difficult silence. Aileron's eyes had never left Paul's while he
spoke, nor did they now.
When he began to speak, his tone was very different, a plea almost. "I
understand," he said stiffly.
"I understand all of what you are saying, but I cannot change what else I
know. Pwyll, I was born into the world to fight this war."
With a strange light-headedness, Kim Ford spoke then for the first time in
public as Seer of
Brennin. "Paul," she said, "everyone, I have to tell you that I've seen this.
So did Ysanne. That's why she sheltered him. Paul, what he's saying is true."
Schafer looked at her, and the crusading anger she remembered from what he had
been before
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