The Hero And The Crown Part One Chapter 1

To TerriThe Hero and the Cr stimulate takes place some considerable span of old age before the time of The Blue Sword. There are a a couple of(prenominal) fairly dramatic topographical differences between the Damar of Aerins day and that of Harrys. range OneChapter 1SHE COULD NOT REMEMBER a time when she had non k forthwith the story she had grown up knowing it. She supposed mortal essential develop told her it, sometime, except she could non remember the spread abroading. She was beyond having to act reflexively bum tears when she thought of those amours the story explained, but when she was feeling sm e actu wholey last(predicate) and shabbier than usual in the large vivid City high in the Damarian Hills she hush up effect herself brooding ab out(a) them and brooding sometimes brought on a tight headachy feeling around her temples, a feeling ilk suppressed tears.She brooded, looking out over the wide low sill of the scar window-frame she looked up, into the Hills , because the glassy place of the courtyard was too bright at noonday to stare at long. Her mind ran down an old familiar get posterior Who readiness find told her the story? It wouldnt sport been her bring who told her, for he had seldom wheel roundn much than a few words together to her when she was young his slake kind grimaces and slightly pre occupy air had been the most she k reinvigorated of him. She had forever known that he was fond of her, which was something but she had nonwithstanding recently begun to sleep with into focus for him, and that, as he had told her himself, in an unexpected fashion. He had the outstrip the barely right to have told her the story of her birth, but he would not have d unriv exclusivelyed so.Nor would it have been the hafor, the folk of the house train they were polite to her always, in their wary way, and reserved, and spoke to her only about household details. It surprised her that they s public treasury remembered t o be wary, for she had long since proven that she possessed nothing to be wary about. Royal children were usually somewhat alarming to be in e rattlingday contact with, for their Gifts often erupted in abrupt and unexpected ways. It was a s quituret(p) surprising, charge, that the hafor still bothitherd to treat her with respect, for the fact that she was her captures female child was supported by nothing but the fact that her fixs wife had borne her. exactly then, for all that was state about her mother, no genius ever suggested that she was not an honest wife.And she would not have run and told tales on any of the hafor who slighted her, as Galanna would and regularly did, even though everyone treated her with the greatest deference gentlemans gentlemanly possible. Galannas Gift, it was dryly verbalize, was to be impossible to please. But perhaps from the hafors view tier it was not worth the peril to discover any points of similarity or dissimilarity between herself and Galanna and a life of service in a household that included Galanna doubtlessly rendered anyone who withstood it automatically wary and respectful of anything that moved. She smiled. She could see the wind stir the treetops, for the surface of the Hills seemed to ripple beneath the blue sky the breeze, when it slid through her window, smelled of leaves.It strength very well have been Galanna who told her the story, be intimate to that. It would be akin her and Galanna had always detest her still did, for all that she was grown now, and married besides, to Perlith, who was a second sola of Damar. The only higher ranks were first sola and king but Galanna had hoped to marry Tor, who was first sola and would someday be king. It was no matter that Tor would not have had Galanna if she had been the only gallant maiden available Id run reach into the Hills and be a robber first, a much younger Tor had told his very young cousin, who had gone off in fits of giggles at the idea of Tor wearing rags and a blue headband and leaping for luck under each quarter of the moon. Tor, who at the time had been laden with terror at Galannas very determined attempts to ensnare him, had relaxed generous to smile and tell her she had no proper respect and was a violateless hoyden. Yes, she express unrepentantly. Tor, for whatever reasons, was rather over-formal with everyone but her but being first sola to a solemn, twice-widowed king of a land with a shadow over it might have had that effect on a far more featherbrained young man than Tor. She suspected that he was as grateful for her origination as she was for his one of her earliest memories was riding in a baby-sack over Tors shoulders while he galloped his horse over a series of hurdle race she had screamed with delight and wound her tiny hands in his thick char hair. Teka, later, had been furious but Tor, who usually took any accusation of the slightest dereliction of employ ment with white lips and a set face, had only laughed.But whenever she decided that it must have been Galanna who first told her the story, she found she couldnt believe it of her subsequently all. Having told it for spite and malice, yes but the story itself had too much sad grandeur. But perhaps she only felt that way because it was about her mother perhaps she had changed it in her own mind, made a tragedy of nothing but sour gossip. But that Galanna would deliberately spend enough time in her company to tell her the story was out of character Galanna preferred whenever possible to look vaguely over the head of the least of her cousins, with an expression on her face indicating that there was a dead fly on the windowsill and why hadnt the hafor swept it out-of-room access? When Galanna was startled into public speaking to her at all, it was usually from a motive of prompt vengeance. The tale of Arlbeths second wife would be too roundabout for her purposes. Still, that it had been one of the cousins was th e best guess. Not Tor, of course. One of the others.She leaned out of the window and looked down. It was hard to name people from the tops of their heads, several stories up. Except Tor she always knew him, even if all she had to go on was an elbow extending an inch or two beyond a doorframe. This below her now was probably Perlith that self-satisfied walk was distinctive even from above, and the way three of the hafor, dressed in fine atrabilious, trailed behind him for no purpose but to lend to their masters importance by their straw man pretty well as sealedd it. Tor went about alone, when he could he told her, grimly, that he had enough of company during the course of his duties as first sola, and the last thing he wanted was an un ordained entourage for any gaps in the official ones. And shed like to see her father pulling velvet-covered flunkeys in his wake, like a child with a toy on a string.Perliths head spoke to another dark head, the hafor waiting respectfully several arms1 length outback(a) then someone on a horse she could not part voices but she heard the click of hoofs emerged from around a corner. The remonstrater wore the livery of a messenger, and the grapple of his saddle said he came from the western hemisphere. Both heads moody toward him and tipped up, so she could see the pale blur of their faces as they spoke to him. Then the horseman cantered off, the horse placing its feet very delicately, for it was dangerous to go too quickly crosswise the courtyard and Perlith and the other man, and Perliths entourage, disappeared from her view.She didnt have to hear what they said to each other to know what was going on but the companionship gave her no pleasure, for it had already brought her both shame and bitter disappointment. It was either the shame or the disappointment that unbroken her mewed up in her rooms, alone, now.She had hardly seen her father or Tor for the week past as they w slackeningled with messages and messengers, as they tried to slow down whatever it was that would happen anyway, while they tried to decide what to do when it had happened. The western barons the fourth solas were making hold out. The rumor was that someone from the labor union, either human or human enough to look it, had carried a bit of demon-mis honcho randomness across the Border and let it loose at the barons council in the spring. Nyrlol was the chief of the council for no better reason than that his father had been chief but his father had been a better and a wiser man. Nyrlol was not known for intelligence, and he was known for a short and violent temper the perfect target for demon-mischief.Nyrlols father would have recognized it for what it was. But Nyrlol had not recognized anything it had simply seemed like a wonderful idea to secede from Damar and the rule of Damars fairy Arlbeth and Tor-sola, and set himself up as King Nyrlol and to slap a new tax on his farmers to support the raising of an army, eventua lly to take the rest of Damar away from Arlbeth and Tor, who didnt run it as well as he could. He managed to convince several of his fellow barons (demon-mischief, once it has infected one human being, will usually then spread like a plague) of the brilliance of his plan, while the mischief muddled their wits. There had been a advertise rumor, much fainter, that Nyrlol had, with his wonderful idea, suddenly developed a mesmerizing faculty to sway those who heard him speak and this rumor was a much more worrying one, for, if true, the demon-mischief was very strong indeed.Arlbeth had chosen to pay no concern to the second rumor or rather to pay only enough attention to it to discount it, that none of his folk might think he shunned it from fear. But he did declare that the trouble was enough that he must attend to it personally and with him would go Tor, and a substantial portion of the army, and more or less as substantial a portion of the court, with all its velvets and jewels brought along for a fine grand show of courtesy, to pretend to disguise the army at its back. But both sides would know that the army was an army, and the show only a show. What Arlbeth planned to do was both difficult and dangerous, for he wished to prevent a civil war, not provoke one. He would withdraw those to go with him with the greatest care and caution.But youre taking Perlith? shed asked Tor disbelievingly, when she met him by chance one day, out behind the barns, where she could let her disbelief show.Tor grimaced. I know Perlith isnt a very worthwhile human being, but hes actually pretty effective at this sort of thing because hes such a good liar, you know, and because he can say the most appalling things in the most gracious manner.No women rode in Arlbeths army. A few of the bolder wives might be permitted to go with their husbands, those who could ride and had been trained in cavalry drill and those who could be trusted to smile even at Nyrlol (depending on how the negotiations went), and curtsy to him as befitted his rank as fourth sola, and even dance with him if he should ask. But it was expected that no wife would go unless her husband asked her, and no husband would ask unless he had asked the king first.Galanna would certainly not go, even if Perlith had been willing to go to the trouble of obtaining leave from Arlbeth (which would probably not have been granted). Fortunately for the peace of all concerned, Galanna had no interest in going anything resembling hardship did not raise to her in the least, and she was sure that nothing in the barbaric west could perhaps be worth her time and beauty.A kings daughter might go too a kings daughter who had, perhaps, proved herself in some piffling ways who had learned to keep her mouth shut, and to smile on hint a kings daughter who happened to be the kings only child. She had known they would not let her she had known that Arlbeth would not dare give his permission even had he wanted to, an d she did not know if he had wanted to. But he could not dare take the witch womans daughter to confront the full treatment of demon-mischief his people would never let him, and he too sorely undeniable his peoples good will.But she could not help asking any more, she supposed, than unequal stupid Nyrlol could help going mad when the demon-mischief bit him. She had tried to choose her time, but her father and Tor had been so busy lately that she had had to watt, and wait again, till her time was almost gone. After dinner last night she had finally asked and she had espouse up here to her rooms afterward and had not come out again.Father. Her voice had gone high on her, as it would do when she was afraid. The other women, and the lesser court members, had already left the long dorm room Arlbeth and Tor and a few of the cousins, Perlith among them, were preparing for another weary evening of discussion on Nyrlols folly. They paused and all of them off-key and looked at her, an d she wished there were not so galore(postnominal) of them. She swallowed. She had decided against asking her father late, in his own rooms, where she could be sure to find him alone, because she was afraid he would only be kind to her and not take her seriously. If she was to be shamed and she knew, or she told herself she knew, that she would be refused at least let him see how much it meant to her, that she should ask and be refused with others looking on.Arlbeth turned to her with his slow smile, but it was slower and less of it reached his eyes than usual. He did not say, Be quick, I am busy, as he might have done and small blame to him if he had, she thought forlornly.You ride west soon? To treat with Nyrlol? She could feel Tors eyes on her, but she kept her own eyes fixed on her father.Treat? said her father. If we go, we go with an army to witness the treaty. A little of the smile crept into his eyes after all. You are picking up courtly language, my dear. Yes, we go to treat with Nyrlol.Tor said We have some hope of catching the mischief-one did not say demon forte if one could help it and bottling it up, and sending it back where it came from. Even now we have that hope. It wont stop the trouble, but it will stop it getting worse. If Nyrlol isnt being pricked and squandered by it, he may subside into the subtle and charming Nyrlol we all know and revere. Tors mouth twisted up into a wry smile.She looked at him and her own mouth twitched at the corners. It was like Tor to answer her as if she were a real part of the court, even a member of the official deliberations, sort of of an interruption and a disturbance. Tor might even have let her go with them he wasnt old enough yet to care so much for his peoples good opinion as Arlbeth did and furthermore, Tor was stubborn. But it was not Tors decision. She turned back to her father.When you go may I come with you? Her voice was little more than a squeak, and she wished she were near a wall or a door she could lean on, instead of in the great empty middle of the dining-hall, with her knees essay to fold up under her like an hour-old foals.The stamp down went suddenly tight, and the men she faced went rigid or Arlbeth did, and those behind him, for she kept her face resolutely away from Tor. She thought that she could not bear it if her one loyal mavin forsook her too and she had never tried to discover the extent of Tors stubbornness. Then the silence was broken by Perliths high-pitched laughter.Well, and what did you expect from letting her go as she would these last years? Its all very well to have her occupied and out from underfoot, but you should have thought the price you paid to be rid of her might prove a little high. What did you expect when our honored first sola gives her lessons in swordplay and she tears around on that legged horse like a peasant boy from the Hills, with never a gainsay but a scold from that old shrew that serves as her maid? Might you not have thought of the reckoning to come? She needed slaps, not encouragement, years ago she needs a few slaps now, I think. Perhaps it is not too late.Enough. Tors voice, a growl.Her legs were trembling now so badly that she had to move her feet, shuffle in her place, to keep the joints locked to hold her up. She felt the linage mounting to her face at Perliths words, but she would not let him drive her away without an answer. Father?Father, mimicked Perlith. Its true a kings daughter might be of some use in facing what the North has sent us a kings daughter who had true princely blood in her veins .Arlbeth, in a very unkinglike manner, reached out and grabbed Tor before anyone found out what the first solas sudden move in Perliths direction might result in. Perlith, you betray the honor of the second solas place in speaking thus.Tor said in a strangled voice, He will apologize, or Ill give him a lesson in swordplay he will not like at all.Tor, dont be a she began, outraged, but the kings voice cut across hers. Perlith, there is justice in the first solas demand.There was a long pause while she hated everyone impartially Tor for behaving like a farmers son whose pet chicken has just been insulted her father, for being so immovably kingly and Perlith for being Perlith. This was even worse than she had anticipated at this point she would be grateful just for escape, but it was too late.Perlith said at last, I apologize, Aerin-sol. For speaking the truth, he added venomously, and turned on his heel and strode across the hall. At the doorway he paused and turned to shout back at them Go slay a dragon, lady Lady Aerin, Dragon-KillerThe silence relocated itself about them, and she could no longer even raise her eyes to her fathers face.Aerin Arlbeth began.The tenderness of his voice told her all she needed to know, and she turned away and walked toward the other end of the hall, opposite the door which Perlith had interpreted. She was conscious of the length of the way she had to take because Perlith had taken the shorter way, and she hated him all the more for it she was conscious of all the eyes on her, and conscious of the fact that her legs still trembled, and that the line she walked was not a true(p) one. Her father did not call her back. Neither did Tor. As she reached the doorway at last, Perliths words still rang in her ears A kings daughter who had true royal blood in her veins Lady Aerin, Dragon-Killer. It was as though his words were hunt dogs who tracked her and nipped at her heels.