Kings of the North - Elizabeth Moon [192]
“If it was the Lady’s anger that disturbed the taig—and if you and Kieri had done nothing wrong in loving each other, a love the taig recognized—then who is really responsible for the taig’s distress?” Before Arian could answer, the Duke had gone on. “Remember what we were taught: though others thought Falk dishonored by the work he had to do, the gods did not agree. Your honor is your own: the Lady’s honor is her own. She chose anger.”
“You are saying it is her fault,” Arian said.
“I am not part-elf,” the Duke said. “So I have no loyalty of blood. I neither like nor dislike elves, except as they show themselves to me. Those I have met have been no more perfect than humans. The Lady, I will venture, may be mistaken, and moved by her own desires rather than wisdom.”
Arian’s father had hinted at this, but she had not believed him … could not, with what she now discerned in her own mind. As if a physical veil were ripped and blown away on a clean wind, Arian’s mind cleared. “She put an enchantment on me,” she said. “She locked my taig-sense—she wanted me to think it was my doing.”
“Do you think she also enchanted Kieri?”
“I do not know,” Arian said. “But he was angry with her—he did not act as if he believed her.” Joy rose in her heart, along with shame that she had been fooled. If indeed the taig had not withdrawn from her—if it had been the Lady’s doing—she could return, and pray that Kieri would understand.
“Will you return?” the Duke asked.
“Of course,” Arian said.
“And if the Lady lays another enchantment on you? Because I think she will try. Have you the strength to hold her off?”
The joy faded. “I … I do not know.”
“Do not go into battle without a plan,” the Duke said. “Even though such plans are never perfect, it is better to have one. Tell me, how much experience have you had in battles?”
“Little,” Arian said. “A few skirmishes with poachers, a daskdraudigs or two.”
The Duke shook her head. “Forgive me for presumption, as I am younger in years than you—though not much—but I have experience you might find useful. Let’s start again: call me Dorrin, Arian, and we will be sword-sisters, two Knights of Falk on campaign, shall we?”
“I … yes, my lord—Dorrin; I would be glad of your advice.”
“As I see it, this is your situation. You and your king want to marry; his co-ruler opposes it for some reason—do you know the reason?”
“She doesn’t like my father,” Arian said. “She says he’s disobedient to her and has fathered too many half-elf children.”
The Duke—no, Dorrin, Arian thought—snorted. “That’s not reason enough to oppose your marriage. Any intelligent being—let alone an immortal of such power—would know that. Either she has other reasons she has not told you, or … or something is wrong with her. Since she has been a problem for your king even before, you and Kieri must find out what it is. That’s one goal.” She held up one finger. “Then there’s Pargun.” She held up another. “If there’s an invasion, how many troops has Kieri? The Pargunese? Do you know—does he know—whether the Pargunese king is still alive? And what are the elven resources?”
Arian answered as best she could as the questions went on and on. She had learned much from Kieri—all the Squires had—but she had also spent much time on the road, carrying messages, or with the princesses; she had only begun to learn how complex war and politics could be.
“I feel like a child,” Arian said when Dorrin sat back and called for more sib. “Ignorant—”
“We know different things,” Dorrin said. “I know nothing of your taig, or your elven relatives. When I was at the Hall, the part-elves would hardly speak to me. A foreigner, from a hated family …”
“Magelords.”
“Yes. The kind of magelords who caused the Girdish Revolt with their cruelty.” Dorrin gave her a lopsided grin. “But you, Arian … you are more like Tamar than I first thought. You think like her when you have the facts. And there are no cruel shadows in your past.”
Arian thought about that. Her mother, strict though she had been, was not unkind, nor her