Kings of the North - Elizabeth Moon [163]
“But she has been—”
“Quite safe,” the king said. “You know Elis—if she had been abused, she would say so.” He turned to her. “Speak plainly, daughter of mine.”
“I have been in no man’s bed,” Elis said. “And no man has been in mine. As I was when I left home, so I am now.”
A moment of silence. Then one of the lords looked at the others. “Well. Well, that is not what Einar said. And you, Torfinn, you have never lied to me, even when I wished it. I do not see the black mark of a lie on your face now. Or on hers. And if that is so, then Einar has lied, and Einar’s challenge is not valid. But how we are to convince the others I know not.”
“I still do not know why we are sitting at the Fox’s table and not tasting blood,” the one who had first spoken said. “If he did not tup our king’s daughter, he is still an enemy. We have no friends on this side the river.”
“That’s not true, Hafdan,” the second lord said. “I have friends here, or at least men I trade with. They are not enemies.”
“It is one thing to trade, and another to talk of peace with those who have swords all around us.” His voice had risen; at the lower table, the Pargunese guards looked up abruptly.
“You are free to go,” Kieri said mildly.
“I will, then,” the man said. He shoved his chair back, scraping the floor, and stood.
“No,” the Pargunese king said. “You will not, Hafdan. You will not go until all do, for I see the black mark on your face now. You were not asked; how, then, did you come?”
“I—” He looked at the other lords, who did not meet his gaze. “I wanted—”
The eldest lord looked at the king. “He came upon us as we traveled here, Sir King. We thought by mischance, but thought it best he come, lest by another mischance he carry word to Einar, which you did not wish.”
The king pushed back his own chair and stood glaring at Hafdan. “You murderous traitor—you wanted me dead! You’re Einar’s man.” He pulled off the gold circlet and tossed it on the table. Kieri had a moment to wonder whether it would be better or worse to stand; then Hafdan broke for the door, and the king rushed at him, grabbed him, and threw him down. The other Pargunese lords rose, shouting; Kieri was up without realizing it, and the Halverics had formed a line between the two on the floor and the Pargunese guards.
The innkeeper and servants hurried out and grabbed the goblets and crockery off the table; clearly they had seen dinners erupt into brawls before. Meanwhile, the two men on the floor, rolling over each other, struggled for mastery. The Pargunese lords stepped forward, back, hesitated, looked at Elis and at Kieri.
“What is going on?” Kieri asked Elis.
“Honor,” she said. She had a hand clamped around her brother’s arm, he noticed then, holding the boy back. “Hafdan insulted the king; the king insulted Hafdan by insinuating he was a traitor—he probably is, but it’s still an insult.”
“I should stop them,” Kieri said. The two were both snarling like beasts, smashing each other with fists and head, kicking …
“No,” Elis said. The Pargunese lords glanced at her, and took their hands off their swords. “It is the only way to settle it: man to man.”
“They can kill each other if they want, but not on my land,” Kieri said. “Dammit—I paid too much for a chance at peace to lose it for a brawl in a tavern!” The Pargunese king had the upper hand now and was throttling Hafdan; Kieri strode forward, putting a hand in the king’s collar. “STOP THIS!” he roared, louder than the two men together. His voice startled even him; he had not expected that, or the light that now blazed from him.
The two combatants stared at him; the king’s grip on Hafdan’s throat loosened slightly, but he was not cowed. “It is an affair of honor! Let me alone—he is a traitor; I must prove it on his body—”
“Prove it somewhere else, then,” Kieri said. “It is ill done to