Wild Blood (Book 7) by Anne Logston Page B

have talked to me—perhaps most of them, thanks to Rowan’s alliance. Even the squabbling between the clans over territories might have worked to our advantage, made our trade goods seem more desirable. That alliance had fallen apart when last I talked with Rowan, though, and that was right after the war, just before Rivkah and I returned to Cielman. Since the invasion I imagine there’s a good deal more free land than there are elves to claim it. Any shortage of game should have long since replenished itself. They have everything they need, and they’ve had sixteen years to enjoy it and let their hatred of the humans grow, with a poacher picking at the edge of the forest now and then to keep their anger and their arrows ready. A good many of the clans that might have negotiated with us sixteen years ago won’t do it now, even if we can reach the inner clans at all. I’m not sure they’ll even talk to you. But we have to try.”
    Ria clenched her jaw stubbornly, stroking the chirrit pup.
    Lord Sharl patted her shoulder gently.
    “I understand your feelings,” he said. “I and each one of my brothers grew up knowing our father might arrange a marriage for us with one of the neighboring families to bring whatever advantage they could—land, mercantile affiliations, whatever. Even when I met Rivkah, for years we didn’t marry because of the possibility that I’d need to make an alliance marriage later. I could gain great advantages by marrying Cyril to landed nobility, possibly obligating several merchant families to us and vastly facilitating later trade. But he’ll marry you because of a promise I made before he was even born, that you’d be wed to my firstborn son. And wed you’ll be, not only because of that promise or because I need that link with the forest—although both of those are factors—but because it’s the best I can do for either of you.”
    “I don’t want to marry him,” Ria protested hotly. “And I don’t think it’s best for me. But nobody ever bothered to ask me what I thought.”
    Lord Sharl turned and smiled a little pityingly at her.
    “And what’s the matter with Cyril? He’s intelligent and strong, a fair fighter and training to be a mage. You’ve known him all your life. You used to be such great friends. Don’t you like him now?”
    Ria squirmed.
    “I like him well enough,” she said reluctantly. “But not that way. I like him like a brother and a friend. When he has time for me,” she added quickly. “Mostly he doesn’t want to be bothered with me these days.”
    “All boys pass through a stage where they don’t want to be bothered with girls,” Lord Sharl chuckled. “But I think Cyril’s past that time and quite ready for marriage. I don’t believe he doesn’t want to be bothered with you; I think he’s simply outgrown the games you used to play, and you haven’t.” He glanced sideways at Ria. “Do you know, your mother was over eighty years old when she bore you, and she still looked like a child to me. And her mate was centuries old.”
    “Well, there,” Ria said eagerly. “You see, I can’t possibly marry Cyril. He’d be old and dead in a few decades, and I’d still be young.”
    Lord Sharl was silent for a long moment, and Ria was surprised to see the weary sadness on his face.
    “Rivkah and I spoke of that many times,” he said. “I’ve discussed it with Cyril, too. It’s a possibility, yes, that you’ll live far longer than my son, and if he died, I can’t imagine you ruling the city without him. But that may not be the case. Despite the way you look, you have some human blood. It may be you’ll grow old with Cyril. If not, I hope you’ll be wise enough to abdicate to your heirs when Cyril is gone.” He shook his head. “But that’s a future that you and Cyril will have to decide. And I think he’ll be glad enough to marry you, elven foster sister or not. Would you rather I’d done as other noble fathers do and married you to