C. Dale Brittain by Voima

disturbed as I was to find my son missing!   But it seemed best not to reopen the war at the All-Gemot.”   He smiled a little.   “Shall I speak to him today of your portion?”
    “No,” said Karin, weakly but determinedly, her eyes cast down.   “Not today.   Not until I tell you.   Valmar is, after all, not yet of age.”
    “He has my permission, of course,” said Hadros slowly.   “Did you hope to hide from your father this shame until you are well wed?”
    “I hope to hide this from everybody,” she said on the brink of tears.   But then she pulled herself together with a visible effort, took the reins of both horses, and walked up toward the castle, leaving Hadros and his son looking after her.
    Then the king turned, striding toward the corded circle where the Fifty Kings were gathering for the day’s decisions, taking Valmar with him.
    He was still trying to work out why his father, whom he had expected to be livid at the shame of his having ridden off with Karin and not come back all night, instead seemed delighted at the thought of what might have taken place.   Karin had misled Hadros deliberately, as though she had suddenly decided she wanted to marry Valmar.   If he could see his big sister again before the All-Gemot finished, maybe she would let him know what she really intended.
    In the meantime he remained silent as they walked, wishing himself invisible, but it still seemed, inexplicably, as though his father was pleased with him.
     
    3
    King Kardan was sitting on the side of Karin’s bed when she awoke.   She sat up, pulling the sheet around her shoulders, and glanced toward the window.   She still felt exhausted, almost as though she had been beaten, but from the angle of the sun she had slept the entire day.
    “Is the All-Gemot finished?” she asked.
    “There are still two more days of deliberations, but we have finished the most important business.”   He smiled and patted her hand.   “I can understand why you would be loath to part from the people with whom you have spent the last ten years—especially since, I can see now, you have even become friends with them.   I can even see why you would want to reacquaint yourself with your kingdom by taking a long ride with Hadros’s heir.   Perhaps I was too quick to assume you would be as happy to be home as I am to have you.   There has not been a day since you left, Karin, that I have not thought of you.   But I do wish you had told me you intended to stay with Hadros last night, so I had not worried.”
    “Suppose—   Suppose I told you I had met a Wanderer last night.”   She spoke quietly, looking down, wondering how likely he was to believe her.   She no longer felt she knew this man, and yet they had to learn to trust each other again.
    “I would say I had not heard a story like that from you since—well, since you went away!”   He tapped her lightly on the cheek.   “Do not tell me they still believe in those little upcountry northern kingdoms that the Wanderers appear to ordinary mortals.   And in the meantime,” with a smile, “could you warn me if you decide again to take a long ride with your friends?”
    “It shall not happen again.”   She looked him over, her head cocked at an angle.   Gray hair, certainly, and somewhat of a paunch, but he appeared no more ready to die or to step down from the throne than did King Hadros.   She might not become sovereign queen until many more years had passed.   “It has been a strain,” she added apologetically, “learning about my brother, the journey here—   But I shall come down to dinner.   Do you think you could invite Queen Arane to the castle this evening?”
     
    She sat with the queen on a window seat—the same place, in fact, where she had talked to Valmar the day before.   Karin saw her childish book of old tales still lying there and quickly tucked it under a cushion.   As Arane settled herself gracefully, Karin thought that she did