Tad Williams - Shadowheart

“I have little else to tell you, except that your father’s health is unimproved. The great pains still come upon him without warning, and his mood suffers because of it. The physicians attend him, and I have sent for…”

“That’s enough,” said Eneas suddenly. “The rest is only meant for me—small matters of my household. Jino and a few others keep an eye on things for me when I am away from home.”

“Your father is ill… ?”

Eneas shook his head, a little too hard. “A distress of the stomach. My uncle has sent a famous Kracian physician to treat him, the best of his kind. My father will be well soon.”

Briony suddenly felt she understood some of what was going on, or at least the cause of Eneas’ brittle mood.

“You are worried, dear Eneas,” she said. “No, don’t say anything. Of course you are. Worse, you fear that something might happen to your father while you are away.” She wanted to say, “And you fear that Lady Ananka and her supporters at court may try to take control of the throne in your absence,” but she knew he would feel obligated to disagree. Sometimes, Eneas’ sense of honor forced him through a tiring series of responses that he and everyone else knew were not his true feelings, but simply what he felt as obligations. Instead, Briony continued with, “And you are caught between your oath to me and your loyalty and worry for your father and your country.”

He glanced up at her, startled. Lord Helkis and some of the other nobles in the great tent were beginning to look distinctly uncomfortable. Eneas sent them away, keeping only the young pages as defense of Briony’s modesty.

“You presume much when you presume to know my mind, Princess,” he said when they were more or less alone.

“I’m sorry, Highness, but I believe what I say is true.”

He gave her a stern look. “Still, even if so—and I do not concede it—it is not to be talked about in front of all and sundry.”

“What—you mean Miron? Lord Helkis? He is your best friend and a relative. As are all your other captains friends and relations. Don’t you think they have thought the same thing? Don’t you think they have wondered why you are riding north into unknown dangers and someone else’s war when you have the danger of the autarch at your own country’s southern doorstep and a royal father who is in poor health?”

“It is nothing. My father eats rich food every night. That woman encourages it.” For a moment something of his true feelings about Ananka showed on his face, his jaw tight and his teeth clenched. “But that is not the issue here. Even if what you said were true, I have sworn to accompany you home. That is not something that can be undone. ...”

For a moment Briony’s admiration for him soured into something else—frustration, perhaps even anger. Why were men so caught up with their honor, their solemn word, their promises? Half the time the promises were never asked of them in the first place! And yet the wars that were fought over such things, the hearts broken and the lands ruined… !

“Very well.” She held up her hand. “Then know this, Eneas. I hereby release you from your promise, if I ever truly held you. I do not think I did. You offered me a great favor from the kindness of your heart. Now I release you from it. You must do as your heart thinks best… but do not let a single promise, uttered in haste and in a kind attempt to atone for the rest of your family’s bad treatment of me, force you to do something you think is foolish. If your family needs you—if your country needs you—go. I of all people will understand.”

Again she seemed to have caught him by surprise, as if he had not thought her capable of thinking and acting this way. For long moments he could only stare at her as though seeing something new and strange.

“You are… a brave woman, Briony Eddon. And in truth I do feel a pull to go home, as any son would—as any heir would. But things are not so simple. Give me this evening to think. Tomorrow morning we will speak again, you and I.”

She thanked him and went out. Their parting was oddly formal, but for the moment Briony would have had it no other way.

She did not sleep well. Lisiya’s bird-skull amulet clutched in her hand did not bring her dreams of the demigoddess or any other immortal, only a series of escapes from and near-captures by shadowy things she could not quite see, things that muttered in angry voices as they followed her through tangled woods and over marshy ground where she had to fight to stay upright. When she woke, she was as tired as if she had spent the entire night doing what she had dreamed.

Still, she could not bear to sit around waiting for Eneas to summon her, so she bundled up warmly in her hooded travel cloak and went to walk along the edge of the encampment in the first blue light of the morning. The Temple Dogs had selected a small box canyon a short distance off the Royal Highway where the hills were as comfortably close and enfolding as her cloak. Briony walked to the top of the nearest one without ever losing sight of the sentry post, then sat and watched the sun clamber into the sky.

I am no less stubborn than Eneas, she thought to herself. I don’t want him coming with me if he is to resent it, even though I am desperate for his soldiers… and happy with his company as well, if I am honest with myself.

But each day spent with Eneas Karallios, the heir to the throne of Syan, was also a sort of lie, or at least so it often seemed. The prince cared for her, he had made that obvious. He would marry her, or at least that was what he seemed to be saying. And there was much to admire about him, as well. Even to hesitate about accepting his affection seemed nearly an act of madness—certainly almost every other woman on the continent of Eion would deem it so. But Briony did not know what she wanted, or even what exactly she thought, and was just stubborn enough not to let good sense rush her into anything.

The sun was tangled in the branches of the trees lining the hillcrest. The dew was almost gone from the grass and the camp below was up and in full preparation for another day on the road—but which direction would they be going? What would the prince decide? And what would she do if he did decide to turn back to Tessis, as she had all but begged him to do?

What I have done all along. I will keep going, she told herself—and half-believed it. I will follow my heart. And, with the help of Zoria’s mercy, I will hope not to be too much of a fool.

Still, there was a small part of her that hoped she hadn’t been too forceful in making her points to Eneas.

Thinking about the prince made her think of Guard Captain Vansen, as it usually did. How strange that these two, who did not know each other and likely would never meet, should be so twinned in her mind! She could hardly think of two men less alike except in common kindness and decency. In all other ways, in looks, importance, wealth, power, Eneas of Syan was Ferras Vansen’s clear superior. And Eneas had made his feelings known, whereas Briony had to admit her notion that Vansen cared for her was based on the flimsiest of interpretations, a few looks, a few mumbled words, none of which could not equally be said to represent the ordinary awkwardness of a common soldier in the presence of his monarch. And he was a common soldier, which made it all the greater an idiocy even to think about him in that way. Even were Vansen to throw himself down at her feet and beg her to marry him, Briony could no more do that than she could marry one of her horse-grooms or a merchant in Market Square.

Not without giving up my throne.…

Briony could not even entertain such a mad idea. With her father and brother gone, who would look after her people? Who would make certain that Hendon Tolly received his due and dreadful reward?