Kings of the North - Elizabeth Moon [162]
Kieri and the Pargunese king moved to the seats reserved for them; Kieri looked over and saw that Elis had gone to the inglenook. She came out leading her brother by the hand. In a fisherman’s smock and short breeches, he looked like a miniature and unbearded version of his father, sturdy and stubborn. Well, he had convinced their father; surely he could convince the boy … if Elis didn’t. She sat at her father’s right hand, and pulled Iolin into the seat beside her.
That said “We are family” as clearly as anything else; the other lords looked startled but did not argue. The king gave Iolin a sharp glance around Elis, but then nodded and said no more about what had happened. After that, the warmth and food had their way as Kieri had hoped. As the lords ate, the guards were served; most of Kieri’s Squires ate with them; only two stood behind him. He did not protest; it was his kingdom.
When they had eaten the fish, the meats, the soup, the vegetables, the breads, and a dessert of apple tarts topped with heavy cream, one of the Pargunese lords belched loudly, leaned back in his chair, and smacked his hand on the table.
“You give a fine feast, Lyonya’s king, but we are not here to feast. You have our king tricked out in your clothes and a crown we have never seen. You are alive; that woman—” He pointed his elbow at Elis. “—is alive; what means this?” His Common was more accented than the king’s.
Kieri answered him in Pargunese. “I but escort your king, who will speak to you. I will translate for the Knight-Commander of Falk, who does not speak your language.”
The man turned to the Pargunese king. “Einar gave you challenge; you call us here to witness, and yet that king is alive and she is also, and I see no blood on your hands.”
“Einar lied,” the king said. “And not only Einar. Those I sent to escort Elis—”
“She is nameless!” the man said, thumping the table hard enough to make empty dishes dance.
“She is not,” the king said. “Be still and listen!” Grumbling, the man sat back. “Those I sent to escort Elis,” he repeated, “lied to her about my purpose. They told her she must kill Lyonya’s king in the marriage bed.”
A mutter of surprise. Kieri thought it genuine, from all of them.
“She is not an assassin,” the king said. “And she had not had that word from me, myself. Elis will tell you her tale now.” He gestured to her.
“I was angry when I woke and found myself in a boat on the river,” Elis said. “But when they told me my father bade me kill Lyonya’s king, I doubted it was his plot at all. We have all long hated and feared Duke Phelan, but my aunt Hanlin had brought back word he desired peace. I could imagine my father sending me to marry this king and then be an envoy of Pargun at his court …”
Kieri watched the reaction. She had schooled her voice perfectly; she sounded like herself, earnest and grave, angry here and confused there, describing how it had been, alone in a strange land, with her only countryfellows those she was sure had lied to her. One by one the lords gave up their slouches, their dismissive expressions, and leaned forward.
“So I thought, if I cannot marry this king, perhaps I can still speak for Pargun at his court. Only I did not know the language well enough, or the customs, and always my escorts were pressing me to seduce him. My lords, you have known me since childhood—I am not a girl apt at such arts.” She smiled a little then, and two of the lords smiled and nodded. “So I asked the king to let me stay here, in Lyonya, but as an envoy of Pargun, and let me learn. And he suggested Falk’s Hall, where I would be with other young women who, like me, loved riding and swordplay. It is a school, my lords, for those who would be knights.”
Frowns now, but thoughtful ones.
The king took over in that pause. “My lords, if I had known what she was told, I could not have chosen her course better.