Chapter 33

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He spent the rest of the afternoon, after the departure of the High Chancellor and the Bishop with him, resting in his rooms, trying to think of what he should say to the people of Crey, or Carthage and Miriam where he would be going out on display. The Chancellor wanted him seen, wanted the people of Bremin Territory to know him, to understand what his presence meant to Cadal and not to fear it. So far, in Crey at least, they didn’t seem to, after the initial misgivings. After learning that Sadek had lied to them all, they seemed more than willing to put aside any uneasiness they may have had over his being a telepath. There were people outside the manor property, lining the roads, waiting for him to come out.

Ralion objected to going to Miriam more strenuously than the other places on the list of towns they would be traveling to over the next several days, with it being so close to the border and the wars being fought there. Col Eldin told them that Dynan’s plan was working. A battle raged even as they spoke, he said, and was being won, the rebels suffering a defeat so thorough and complete that it would be a very long time before they would recover. The Chancellor was now talking about sending emissaries into the Northern Territories, for talks with the ruling officials there. He was ready to send word to several of them, asking them to come to Miriam so that they could meet. The Chancellor seemed confident that peace between them could finally be achieved.

After Miriam, they would travel south, stopping at the smaller towns along the way, arriving back in Quilar ten days from now. On the twelfth day, he and Loren would marry.

He pulled in a breath and sat up, feeling it was time to go talk to Grissam about whether he and Aleen would allow that marriage to take place. After talking to Loren’s mother that morning, he was worried they might not. He wasn’t sure what to do about it if they said no. He knew what Loren would say, certain her reaction to such a denial wouldn’t be calm. He didn’t think he wanted to be around for the explosion.

He pulled in another breath and got his boots, his discarded jacket, and made himself presentable before going to the door. He found the necessary papers Grissam would have to sign, folding them into a pocket; glad he hadn’t been carrying them when he’d been dumped into the pond. Dain’s letter had been with him, but wasn’t any worse for wear. He wished for just a little of Dain’s courage and went to the door.

Ralion was waiting outside and guessed what he intended. “Lord Mendrel is in the back parlor,” he said with a slight smile. “Loren is in her room resting. Geneal is in the kitchen, I think. Marc is in town. He won’t tell what for. Sheed just left to check things out for your trip in.”

Dynan nodded to all that, but frowned. “Geneal is in the kitchen?”

“I think she’s doing something to your food again, or making that really awful drink. One or the other.”

“I feel fine,” Dynan said and knew he was delaying. Ralion knew it too and nodded him on.

“Good luck.”

Dynan mumbled under his breath that he didn’t have that kind of luck and went downstairs. He found Grissam Mendrel sitting in a comfortable chair, sipping a cup of tea. He was reading a paper that he put aside and stood when Dynan came in. He offered him a cup of tea that Dynan accepted, as well as the chair across from a cold hearth. The room was nicely appointed, all the furniture of a dark wood that complemented the pale wood paneling on the walls. The windows were open to a cooling breeze.

After exchanging the usual pleasantries, particularly how nicely things had settled down, Dynan set his tea aside and meant to bring up the reason he was there, but Grissam stopped him. “If it were up to me, I’d sign without so much as a single question asked. I know enough about you to know you’ll take care of her. I’ve been trying to get her married for years, without any success.”

“I’m not sorry you haven’t managed,” he said and waited.

“You’ve answered most of Aleen’s concerns. You understand that this is hard for her, to give up her only child to a man who isn’t from the planet and means to take her daughter to a place she won’t be coming back from. I know you’ve already told her that you’ll try to find a way for her to see Loren again. She’s having a difficult time believing that you’ll succeed. I’m concerned Loren doesn’t realize how permanent this could be. Have you talked to her about it, about not being able to see her mother again?”

“Some,” Dynan said. “I know it’s a difficult choice for her. The only reason I can’t give you any guarantees is because I’m not in a position to do so. Once that changes, the chances aren’t as remote as it may seem. All of this is going to come out, that I’ve been here, what happened here and my part in it. I’d already made up my mind that it has to come out. Cadal is changing so rapidly that the other System leaders I have to deal with will need to know it.”

“If none of this had happened, with the Book of Ages, would you tell them anyway?”

“Yes. I don’t want to live with this hanging over my head, waiting for someone to find out and try to use it against me for the rest of my life.”

“And if these other people find out before you get this Throne of yours back, you might not get it back at all. Is that right?”

“The possibility exists, yes. There isn’t anyone else to take the Throne and the people who are going to help me don’t want to keep the current ruler in place, so it’s more likely they’ll use this situation to force me into agreements that would give them the advantage.”

“Power to rule your life, you mean.”

Dynan nodded. “Once I’m crowned, it’s my intention to tell them. It will take them time to decide what to do with all this, if anything, but I think under the right circumstances it’ll be possible for Loren to come back here, or even for you and Aleen to come to Cobalt.”

Grissam grunted at that thought. “I can’t say that I’m not curious about what it would be like, but I don’t think I’d make that journey. Aleen would, but no, I’ll stay here and wait for her. You didn’t tell her this when you talked.”

“Seeing the Book of Ages changed a few things.”

That produced another grunt and a nod. “How long before any of this is decided among your people?”

“I can’t ... Our particular form of government isn’t known for making decisions quickly. They’ll want to study it. Then they’ll want to talk about it and then study it some more. It could take a year. It could take two, but that’s the most I think, since I’ll be part of that process. I’ll be pressing them to get on with it.”

Grissam looked back to a set of double doors. Dynan realized one was open slightly. A rustle of skirts could be heard, followed by Aleen’s entrance. Dynan stood, as did Lord Mendrel and the two exchanged a look. Some silent communication passed between them that had nothing to do with telepathy, but years of knowing each other.

“Two years?” Aleen said, then turned to a corner desk and retrieved a quill and ink set.

“That’s not a promise,” Dynan said. “It’s a guess. A good guess, but not—”

“You’re honest to a fault,” she said with a slight smile. “Do you want to marry my daughter?”

“Yes,” Dynan said as evenly as he could manage.

“Do you promise to remember what we talked about?”

“I don’t think I could forget it if I tried,” he said. “I promise.”

Aleen handed the writing instrument to Grissam and nodded. “Then you may.”

The papers were signed and for a moment, Dynan couldn’t believe he’d gotten them all; that it was really going to happen now. He could suddenly feel his heart pounding, because he’d not been breathing properly for most of the interview.

Grissam poured the three of them a drink. Aleen shook her head. “He’s not allowed to have that,” she said, obviously repeating something Geneal must have told her.

Dynan took the glass before Grissam could put it away. “It’s not every day that a man wins the hand of the girl of his dreams, so I think I’m going to ignore that advice,” he said.

Lord Mendrel raised his glass. “May God grant you all the patience you’re going to need,” he said. “And years of happiness to go with it.”

Aleen nudged her husband, but she was laughing as she sipped the sweet liqueur. Dynan joined them, but then he wanted to find Loren. “She’s in the music room across the hall, waiting,” Aleen told him without needing to be asked. He set his drink down with a small sip left, took up the paper Grissam had just signed and went through the doors, both sets in a rush.

She had changed again, wearing a gown of pale blue lace, embroidered with flowers of a deeper shade of blue, a gown unencumbered by the usual bustles and heavy skirts. She stood a slender rose, waiting to wilt or bloom. She turned to him and he could see the same nervous fear of being denied in her face. That all vanished when he smiled and held up the paper. She was in his arms in an instant, kissing him while he kissed her, laughing as tension left them, replaced by a giddy sort of joy that stopped time in its place.

“Do you believe it?” she said as he spun her around.

“Yes,” Dynan said and really liked the sound and feel of that word. “Yes.”

He held her still, leaned and kissed her in a way that conveyed all the meanings of that word. Twelve days, his mind whispered, and it no longer felt like an eternity.