Mercedes Lackey - Sanctuary

Baket-ke-aput nodded. “Entirely. And—” he added, with a lifted brow, “—there is a saying among our people that the man who least wishes to be King, is the man who is like to be the best suited. Still—”

“Then by all qualifications, Ari is the only choice for all of us,” Kaleth replied, “since he is Tian and will be accepted by Tians and I will not divorce my Marit to free her for some other husband.” Marit still had her hand on Kaleth’s shoulder, and he covered it with one of his own. “My beloved, who has the secrets of her sister’s heart poured daily into her ear, tells me that Nofret does not find Ari distasteful.”

“Ah, but Ari is a commoner,” Ari objected—

Except that when he said those words, he did not sound at all certain. In fact, he sounded like a man who was telling a lie. And Kiron’s ears pricked up at that.

Kaleth drew himself up and stared at Ari, putting on that invisible mantle of dignity that transformed him into someone Kiron felt impelled to bow to. The back of his neck prickled a little. Kaleth knew something. And it had not come from the mouths of men. Furthermore, he was about to say something—or perhaps it was more appropriate to say, Someone was about to speak through him.

“I believe, Ari-en-anethet,” said Kaleth, in a voice that seemed to echo in the overcrowded room, “that it is time and more than time that you told the truth about your birth.”

The reaction of the Tian priests to that voice was altogether satisfactory from an Altan point of view. They looked very much as if they were going to throw themselves on their faces, and only the fact that no one else was doing so kept them still seated. At the back of the room, the few acolytes who were still here had thrown themselves prostrate.

So these Tians do recognize the Voice of the Gods when they hear it. That made Kiron feel a good bit better. It meant that the priests knew now what Power was holding the reins here, however lightly those reins were being held. And when their fellow countrymen showed up, the priests would take care of whatever “enforcement” of the laws and ways of Sanctuary needed to be done. It was one thing to claim to speak for the gods, but when you could demonstrate the fact, well, that was another bundle of reeds altogether.

But others here had paid more attention to the words than the tone or the way in which the words were delivered. “Your birth?” Haraket looked from Kaleth to Ari, his face screwed up in puzzlement. “What about his birth? He’s the son of a scribe—”

“He is the nephew of a scribe,” Kaleth corrected, in a voice that no longer echoed. “His mother was a Temple of Senet handmaiden. Which was where his father came upon her and came to love her.”

Sharp glances among the Tian priests, and some whispers among the oldest. So. There was something about this that was calling to mind things that they knew.

“My father was a simple soldier,” Ari said stubbornly.

Kaleth laughed. “Your father was a soldier, yes, but hardly ‘simple,’ and well you know it. Ari, the gods have shown me your life laid out as an open scroll. Let your tongue at last tell the truth. It is the answer to how to unite our people, and though it is not the only answer to that conundrum, it is the best one.”

Ari looked as stressed as Kiron had ever seen him, as if he both loathed what he was about to say, and had longed to say it aloud all his life. “It is—it is nothing I wished anyone to know. Ever! ” he managed. “It is an accident of birth! It is not meritorious and not ignoble either, but it is no recommendation to be made a leader! Kings should be made of more than bloodlines! This is—”

“Vital,” Kaleth said firmly. “To the common man, it is the hand of the gods. Perhaps blood does not make a king, but having a noble bloodline does not make him less of one. You have the skills. Now tell.”

Ari hung his head. “My father,” he said, to the hands lying clenched in his lap, “Was—is—the King’s brother, the Royal Commander of the Armies of Tia.”

Baket-ke-aput looked absolutely thunderstruck. So, in fact, did every other Tian. It was Baket-ke-aput who recovered first and said, falteringly, “Then Ari-en-anethet, Jouster of Tia and Sanctuary, would be—acceptable to the priesthood and the people of Tia as a coruler with the Noble Maiden Nofret. If he is acceptable to the Noble Maiden.”

Nofret’s expression was sober, but her voice was firm. “He is acceptable.”

“Just one moment.” Ari stood up. Kiron had never seen him so tense in all the time he had known the senior Jouster. He practically vibrated. It’s a good thing that Kashet isn’t here, or Ari’s nerves would have that poor dragon looking for something or someone to attack. “Nofret, no matter what these people want, I will not take a wife who is coming to me out of a sense of duty!”

Nofret regarded him gravely. “Jouster Ari,” she said, with great dignity. “All my life I have known that I must wed out of duty. To have a husband who is pleasant, kind, and a—” she hesitated, “—a friend, a very dear friend, is more than I expected.”

Ari shook his head, stubbornly. “Maybe you have been trained to think that is the right and proper way to do things, but I have not. Thank you for saying that I am pleasant and kind and a friend, but I—I require more.”

He turned to Kaleth. “The Lady Nofret has no other kin here but you and her sister, Mouth of the Gods,” he said with great formality, before anyone, even Nofret, could respond. “Therefore, I beg your leave to court her and win her love as well as her regard.”

Baket-ke-aput was dumbstruck. Nofret looked first shocked, then puzzled, then, slowly, her eyes glowed with warmth and pleasure.

Kaleth did not so much as lift a corner of his mouth, even though Ari was almost old enough to be his father. “You have my leave,” he said gravely.

“And mine,” said Marit, just as gravely, though the twinkle in her eye and the furtive flush on Nofret’s cheeks suggested that Ari already was well on the way to having that love. Assuming he didn’t have it already. Maybe Kiron wasn’t very old, but there was one thing he did know, and that was that there was no telling what a female would think.

“And you will not pressure her into a decision!” Ari continued. He sounded desperate, but Kiron didn’t think he was looking for an excuse not to wed Nofret. On the contrary. He wanted her desperately. He meant exactly what he said; he didn’t want a co-ruler, he wanted a wife and a partner.

Kiron took another glance at Nofret. If he was any good at reading expressions, she didn’t think Ari was looking for any excuses either.

“By no means,” said Kaleth, before anyone else could speak. “After all, there is time yet before so many people come to Sanctuary that we will need a King and Queen. Take whatever time you need. Unless Nofret objects?” he raised an eyebrow in her direction.

Nofret blushed a deeper crimson, but smiled. “What lady ever objects to being courted? Any who would must be mad.”

Baket-ke-aput looked as astonished as if a camel had spoken to him—but then, in Tia, while women were held in high regard, young women were accustomed to obeying fathers and elder brothers until the day they had a household of their own.

Baket-ke-aput might as well get used to this change in “the way things were.” Kiron knew very well what would happen when Tian girls saw how much freedom Altan girls enjoyed.

“Until then, however,” Kaleth continued. “You must needs be on this council. That, I require. I want your skills and your knowledge of your fellow countrymen. Sit, please, Ari.”