Tigana by Guy Kay (novel24 txt) 📕

his face as he explained, looking up from a map and strewn sheets of paper covered with numbers. The three of them together around a table in the sitting-room off the King’s bedchamber; Rhun a nervous, preoccupied fourth on a couch at the far end of the room. The King of the Western Palm still had his Fool, though the King of Ygrath was named Girald now.

‘I cannot make them fight alone,’ Brandin said quietly. ‘Not to carry the full burden of defending people I have just made them equal to. This cannot be an Ygrathen war. For one thing, they are not enough, we will lose. But it is more than that. If we send an army or a fleet it must be made up of all of us here, or this Kingdom will be finished before I start.’

D’Eymon had risen from the table, agitated, visibly disturbed. ‘Then I must say again what I have said before: this is folly. The thing to do is to go home and deal with what has happened in Ygrath. They need you there.’

‘Not really, d’Eymon. I will not flatter myself. Girald has been ruling Ygrath for twenty years.’

‘Girald is a traitor and should have been executed as such with his mother!’

Brandin looked up at him, the grey eyes suddenly chilly. ‘Must we repeat this discussion? D’Eymon, I am here for a reason and you know that reason. I cannot go back on that: it would cut against the very core of what I am.’ His expression changed. ‘No man need stay with me, but I am bound myself to this peninsula by love and grief, and by my own nature, and those three things will hold me here.’

‘The Lady Dianora could come with us! With Dorotea dead you would need a Queen in Ygrath and she would be—’

‘D’Eymon! Have done.’ The tone was final, ending the discussion.

But the Chancellor was a brave man. ‘My lord,’ he pushed on, grim-faced, his voice low and intense, ‘if I cannot speak of this and you will not send our fleet to face Barbadior I know not how to advise you. The provinces will not go to war for you yet, we know that. It is too soon. They need time to see and to believe that you are one of them.’

‘And I have no time,’ Brandin replied with what had seemed an unnatural calm after the sharp tension of the exchange. ‘So I have to do it immediately. Advise me on that, Chancellor. How do I show them? Right now. How do I make them believe I am truly bound to the Palm?’

So there it was, and Dianora knew that the moment had come to her at last.

I cannot go back on that; it would cut against the very core of what I am. She had never really nursed any fantasies of his ever freely releasing and unbinding his spell. She knew Brandin too well. He was not a man who went back or reversed himself. In anything. The core of what he was. In love and hate and in the defining shape of his pride.

She stood up. There was an odd rushing sound in her ears, and if she closed her eyes she was certain she would see a path stretching away, straight and clear as a line of moonlight on the sea, very bright before her. Everything was leading her there, leading all of them. He was vulnerable, and exposed, and he would never turn back.

There was an image of Tigana flowering in her heart as she rose. Even here, even now, an image of her home. In the depths of the riselka’s pool there had been a great many people gathered under banners of all the provinces as she walked down to the sea.

She placed her hands carefully on the back of her chair and looked down at him where he sat. There was grey in his beard, more, it seemed, each time she noticed it, but his eyes were as they had always been, and there was no fear, no doubt in them as they looked back at her. She drew a deep breath and spoke words that seemed to have been given to her long ago, words that seemed to have simply waited for this moment to arrive.

‘I will do it for you,’ she said. ‘I will make them believe in you. I will do the Ring Dive of the Grand Dukes of Chiara as it used to be done on the eve of war. You will marry the seas of the peninsula, and I will bind you to the Palm and to good fortune in the eyes of all the people when I bring you back the sea-ring from the sea.’

She kept her gaze steady on his own, dark and clear and calm, as she spoke at last, after so many years, the words that set her on the final path. That set him, set them all, the living and the dead, the named and the lost, on that path. As, loving him with a sundered heart, she lied.

SHE FINISHED HER KHAV and rose from bed. Scelto had drawn the curtains back and she could see sunrise just beginning to lighten the dark sea. The sky was clear overhead and the banners in the harbour could just be seen, moving lazily in the dawn breeze. There was already a huge crowd gathered, hours before the ceremony was to start. A great many people had spent the night in the harbour square, to be sure of a place near the pier to see her dive. She thought she saw someone, a tiny figure at such a distance, lift a hand to point to her window and she stepped quickly back.

Scelto had already laid out the clothes she would wear, the garments of ritual. Dark green for the going down: her outer robe and sandals, the net that would hold her hair and the silken undertunic in which she would