Grinning wry agreement, he gestured to the Princes Hall. "I haven't had the chance to ask you how you like my two-fifths of a palace."

"It's magnificent-as you don't need me to tell you. Now that everybody's gone, I suppose you can get back to work on the rest of it."

"Only until the rains. That was our big mistake-we never considered how much time we lose to winter. But no snow, thank the G.o.ddess."

"Better to thank the Storm G.o.d. But I'd like to see it snow someday. I'm told it's beautiful."

"I've ridden through it, walked on it, and even slept on top of it, but I've never seen it fall, either."

"From what Princess Iliena says, it's rather like a freezing sandstorm-only it blows down, not across."

"Down, if you're lucky," Pol corrected. "Across, with a vengeance if you get stuck in a blizzard."

Such polite, social conversation; they might have been friendly strangers. "Iliena must find Graypearl a nice change after Snowcoves."

"Strange, isn't it? That she and her sister married brothers." He hesitated, then shrugged and went on, "And that Ludhil and Laric visited Snowcoves and fell in love at exactly the same time."

He sounded wistful. Perhaps his parents were hinting that with Dragon's Rest livable, if not finished, he ought to start looking for a wife. If she steered the talk away from love, he might suspect-no, he had never suspected a d.a.m.ned thing. Arrogant, insufferable, and blind. blind.

"I think Iliena got the better geographical bargain by marrying Chadric's heir," she replied lightly. "Lisiel may be Princess of Firon now as Laric's wife, but she's still in blizzard country."

"Do you know what Firon means in the old language? 'Silent hoof.' A tribute to the snow, no doubt." He paused again. "I'm supposed to go find myself a princess, you know," he finished irritably.

So he wasn't ready yet. Interesting. "In your position, they'll they'll come looking for come looking for you. you."

"Don't I know it. In a way, I'd like it to happen quickly-it'd save me years of nonsense. Trying to find the right person must be awful. I haven't even started yet."

"But they they have," she said before thinking, remembering all the highborn maidens who had cl.u.s.tered around him during the have," she said before thinking, remembering all the highborn maidens who had cl.u.s.tered around him during the Rialla. Rialla. Sionell had removed herself from the vicinity as often as possible, accompanied by her own clutch of admirers-who for some reason only annoyed her. Sionell had removed herself from the vicinity as often as possible, accompanied by her own clutch of admirers-who for some reason only annoyed her.

"I just hope she'll be somebody I can talk to the way I can to you. It's wonderful, Ell, finding out you've grown up sensible!"

She smiled wryly at the backhanded compliment.

"I mean it. The girls here, the ones at Graypearl-gigglers and gawkers, all of them. I can talk to you like I'd talk to Riyan or Maarken or Sorin. It's a relief to find there's at least one intelligent woman my own age in the world."

How nice of him to categorize her as one of the boys.

He had fixed his gaze on the delinquent flowers nearby. "d.a.m.ned roses," he muttered.

Sionell laughed at him. "As if all you had to do was wave your hand for them to appear! Prince and Sunrunner you may be, but not magician."

"But I wanted them to be spectacular. My grandmother Milar loved messing about with gardens, too, you know. I think I inherited it from her." Glancing down at her and then away, he asked, "Ell, what do you think of Tallain?"

"I think very highly of him," she responded. "He's very capable, as he's shown since his father died last winter."

"He's determined to keep the Cunaxans and the Merida pent up in the north so we won't have to worry about them ever again."

Sionell nodded, wondering why he'd mentioned the young lord of Tiglath. An additional honor for him, perhaps? Tuath Castle had no direct male heir; perhaps Pol and Rohan were considering a union of the two holdings.

"Tallain's a fine man-he was my father's squire for years," Pol went on.

"I know."

"I like him a lot. A prince is only as good as the people who support him, the athr'im athr'im who're loyal to him. Tallain's one of the best." who're loyal to him. Tallain's one of the best."

"I like him, too," she said, a trifle impatiently, wishing he'd either tell her why he wanted to discuss Tallain of Tiglath or go away and leave her alone.

Pol did not enlighten her. She did, however, receive her second wish. From the Princes Hall came a young maidservant, black-haired and slender; she paused just long enough in the sunshine to make sure Pol had seen her, then stretched her arms wide, as if she'd just slipped out for some fresh air. Pol excused himself a few moments later-not even having the grace to enter the Hall by a different door.

Sionell watched him disappear, stunned. Right in front of my face, too! All the subtlety of a rutting dragonsire! Right in front of my face, too! All the subtlety of a rutting dragonsire!

Then: Fool! Idiot! He's the High Prince's heir, the great Sunrunner Prince-he can do as he likes and-d.a.m.n him! I am Fool! Idiot! He's the High Prince's heir, the great Sunrunner Prince-he can do as he likes and-d.a.m.n him! I am not not going to cry! going to cry!

And, finally: Very well, then. If that's the way the wind sets, so be it. I'm not twelve anymore. If he doesn't want me, lots of others do. He can find a convenient h.e.l.l and rot in it for all I care. Very well, then. If that's the way the wind sets, so be it. I'm not twelve anymore. If he doesn't want me, lots of others do. He can find a convenient h.e.l.l and rot in it for all I care.

The next afternoon the High Princess enlisted her namesake's help in packing presents for Andry's son and daughter. He had not brought them to the Rialla. Rialla. Rumor had it that this neglect earned him an interview with his parents that acquainted him intimately with their blistering views on the subject. Their anger was not that the children existed; they were furious and hurt that Andry had left them behind at G.o.ddess Keep. Sionell and everyone else knew why. He intended little Andrev and Tobren to be raised as Rumor had it that this neglect earned him an interview with his parents that acquainted him intimately with their blistering views on the subject. Their anger was not that the children existed; they were furious and hurt that Andry had left them behind at G.o.ddess Keep. Sionell and everyone else knew why. He intended little Andrev and Tobren to be raised as faradh'im faradh'im only, with no ties and thus no second loyalties to the Desert. She could just imagine what Lord Chaynal-not to mention Princess Tobin-had said to that. only, with no ties and thus no second loyalties to the Desert. She could just imagine what Lord Chaynal-not to mention Princess Tobin-had said to that.

The latter had indulged her thwarted grandmotherly instincts with a buying spree at the Rialla Rialla Fair. It was this collection of toys, clothes, and trinkets that Sionell helped wrap and label for the children-while Tobin fretted at not having had them ready for Andry's departure two days earlier. Fair. It was this collection of toys, clothes, and trinkets that Sionell helped wrap and label for the children-while Tobin fretted at not having had them ready for Andry's departure two days earlier.

"He would would ride out in a hurry, wanting to make good time back to G.o.ddess Keep, when he ride out in a hurry, wanting to make good time back to G.o.ddess Keep, when he knew knew I had things for the babies! I swear that one of these days I'm going to skin that boy alive." I had things for the babies! I swear that one of these days I'm going to skin that boy alive."

Surveying the piles of packages-and the things yet to be wrapped-Sioned laughed. "Smart of him to escape while he had the chance. Honestly, Tobin, it's going to take two wagons and four pack horses to get all this to G.o.ddess Keep."

Sionell said innocently, "The pony cart she bought them ought to hold quite a bit."

"G.o.ddess in glory, don't remind her!" Sioned begged. "She'll go after the departing merchants and load that up, too!"

"Go on, tease me," Tobin invited, making a face. "You just wait until you you become a grandmother, High Princess!" become a grandmother, High Princess!"

Sionell prudently did not comment that if Pol kept putting off marriage while doing what he was doing with the maidservants, Sioned would have grandchildren long before she had a daughter-by-marriage. His bedchamber exploits were no one's business but his-not even his mother's. And certainly not any of my concern-the graceless swine- And certainly not any of my concern-the graceless swine- She glanced up from folding a stack of shirts to find that both Tobin and Sioned had run to the windows. An instant later the whole tower seemed to shake as an arrogant roar shattered the morning stillness.

Dragons.

Sionell was first down the stairs. She arrived breathless outside the tower and stared up at the flight of dragons heading for the lake. Training her mother had given her in the intellectual study of the beasts warred briefly with the sheer delight of watching them. Emotion won, as ever. The day it didn't, she'd order up her funeral pyre-for surely she would be near death.

"I never get over it," Sioned murmured at her side, as if she'd heard Sionell's thoughts. "All these years, watching them everywhere from Remagev to Waes, and I've never gotten used to their beauty."

Others joined them on the gra.s.sy slope in front of the Princes Hall-Sionell's parents, Maarken, Hollis, Arlis, and the High Prince himself. He was shirtless and barefoot, his damp fair hair indicating he'd leaped from a bath and barely remembered to pull on trousers. He looked his son's age as he turned his face skyward, rapt and ecstatic.

"Sionell!"

Turning, she saw Pol ride up on one of his golden horses. He reined in, eyes brilliant, and gestured. She grabbed his hand and used his booted foot as a stirrup to swing up behind his saddle.

"Faster!" she urged as he kicked the mare to a gallop, and laughed into the wind.

Some of the dragons were already at play along the lakesh.o.r.e. Others, hungry after a long flight, pounced on the terrified sheep kept penned for their refreshment. A three-year-old gray female with gorgeous black underwings swept down in a controlled glide, plucked up a woolly lump with one hind foot, snapped its neck with a twist of front talons, and landed neatly on the opposite sh.o.r.e. She snarled at a sibling who attempted to steal her lunch and settled down to devour the sheep with dainty greed. The entire operation took less than twenty heartbeats.

Sionell slid to the ground before Pol brought the mare to a full halt. He was right beside her after slapping the horse back toward the stables-having no wish to see one of his prizes become dragon fodder.

"Start counting!" Sionell cried. "My mother will kill us if we don't!"

"Five russet hatchlings, seven green-bronze, ten black-Ell, just look at them! As alike as if they'd shared the same egg!"

"Four grays, three more black-I don't see the gray-blue sire who was at Skybowl. He must've died in mating battle-but there's the black one, and the worse for wear! How does he fly with that scab on his wing?"

"Where's Elisel? Can you see her?"

They searched the lake and the skies, but could find no trace of Sioned's russet dragon.

"She has to be here," Sionell fretted.

"Maybe she went to Skybowl." Pol tried to be soothing, but his face betrayed his worry.

Sioned ran up, winded. In silence she scanned the sh.o.r.e, biting her lip. At last she whispered, "She's not here."

If anything had happened to Elisel-the only dragon any of the Sunrunners had been able to talk to. . . . But Elisel might have been one of the females who died each mating year. There were insufficient caves for all the she-dragons; if they did not mate and lay their eggs, they died.

Sionell glanced up at Pol, seeing the same worry in his eyes. He muttered, "We have to coax them back to Rivenrock. We have to tell them it's safe there."

"How?" she asked bleakly. "If we've lost Elisel, then-" She broke off, mindful of Sioned nearby.

"Maybe Maarken and Hollis just chose the wrong dragons to touch," he mused.

"Trying it had them unconscious for a whole afternoon," she reminded him. His lips twisted as he gnawed on the inside of his cheek, his eyes narrowing as he focused on a single dragon. She knew what he was going to do as surely as if they'd thought it at the same time-and didn't say a word to stop him.

The others had arrived at the lake by now, occupied with the count or speculating on Elisel's absence or simply staring awestruck at the dragons. Only Sionell saw Pol take a deep breath to steady himself, fix his gaze on a large blue-gray three-year-old with silvery underwings, and close his eyes.

The young dragon stood with wings spread out to dry after his swim. Well-grown for his age, as an adult he would be a sire of formidable size. His head with its long face and huge eyes turned toward Pol, then away, then shook as if insects irritated him. Shuffling to one side, he b.u.mped into another youngling who growled at him.

Sionell held her breath, willing Pol to succeed. How could he not? Nothing had ever been denied him; the world and all its dragons were his by right.

But not today.

The dragon shrieked, head lashing toward the sky. Pol cried out at the same time, a terrible groan that shuddered his whole frame. Sionell flung her arms around him to keep him upright, calling his name.

"Pol! You idiot!" Rohan gathered him from her and lowered him to the gra.s.s. His eyes were open and he mumbled incoherently, the muscles of his legs and arms quivering. Sionell knelt, shifting Pol's head to her lap. Rohan framed his son's face with his hands and called his name.

The dragon howled again and took wing, circling the lake in panicked flight. All at once Pol's eyes opened startled and wide. He gave a great sigh and went bonelessly unconscious.

"Idiot," Rohan said again, but in a relieved tone this time. "Maarken, Tallain, get him out of here and put him to bed."

The young Lord of Tiglath gently a.s.sisted Sionell to her feet. "He'll be all right now, my lady. Let us take care of him."

She nodded numbly, grateful for his strong supporting arm as he gave her over to Arlis. Pol was slung between the two young men and carried away, utterly oblivious.

"Whatever possessed him to try such a thing?" Hollis asked. "He knows how difficult it is-"

"You just answered your own question," said the High Princess. "If he'd gotten tangled in that dragon's colors-"

"He wanted to ask about Elisel," Sionell murmured.

"Perhaps," Sioned conceded. "But what he really wanted, what he's always always wanted, is to touch a dragon himself." wanted, is to touch a dragon himself."

Rohan rubbed a hand over his face. "If he wasn't already to be punished by a sore brain for the next two days, I'd take him over my knee."

"I'd take him by the ears and shake some sense into him-if I could reach up that far," Sioned countered. "Has that poor dragon settled down yet?" take him by the ears and shake some sense into him-if I could reach up that far," Sioned countered. "Has that poor dragon settled down yet?"

"Sunning himself and having a snack," Arlis reported. "Are you all right now, my lady?"

Sionell managed a shaky smile for the future Prince of Kierst-Isel. "Thank you, my lord."

Pol woke in time for dinner, sat up, moaned, clutched his aching skull, and collapsed back into the pillows. Tallain came downstairs to inform them that the prince had wisely decided to stay in his room.

"How long did it take you to bully him into it?" Rohan asked curiously.

Tallain grinned. "Two tries at standing, one at getting his pants on, and some very creative cursing, my lord. I hardly had to say anything at all."

"Good man. Let him convince himself. Walvis, I a.s.sume Feylin is lost in her statistics again, and won't be joining us for dinner?"

They were a small group that night, seated around a table in what would one day be the guards' mess. Sioned had chosen to stay upstairs and wait for first moonlight to contact Riyan at Skybowl; he would know about Elisel. Chay, Tobin, and Maarken were at the stables tending a mare suspected of colic. So Arlis served Rohan, Walvis, Sionell, Tallain, and Hollis from a cauldron of stew made of leftovers from the Lastday banquet. When sweets and taze were presented at the end of the meal, the young prince was dismissed to his own dinner.

Despite the day's events, conversation was not of dragons or Sunrunning. Rohan plied Tallain with questions about an agreement signed only days ago with Miyon of Cunaxa regarding the border between princedoms. The gist of the matter was, could Tallain live with the terms?

"Kabil of Tuath and I had a long talk this spring. With Sunrunners at our holdings able to contact Riyan at any time, we both feel fairly secure. And glad to give our people something better to do than patrol."

"Trust my son to need more iron than even Sioned was able to trick Miyon out of," Rohan sighed. "And trust Miyon that the only way to get it was a reduction of troops along the border."

"That's not quite fair," Walvis observed. "Sorin learned so much from building Feruche that more iron had to come to Dragon's Rest-plus it's so much bigger."

"And whose fault is that? Again, my son's." The High Prince shrugged. "Ah, well. Reduction of patrols reduces the chance of any little 'accidents' like last winter."

Sionell sipped hot taze, remembering how close they had come to war with Cunaxa. An encounter along the border had led to a disagreement about who had encroached on whose land, ending with several dead on each side before both backed off. A courier had galloped into Tiglath that night; Tallain rode out at once with an escort. His quiet diplomacy-aided by a map drawn by G.o.ddess Keep's Sunrunners in 705 that strictly defined boundaries-had convinced the Cunaxans that the matter wasn't worth further bloodshed.

"Yes," Tallain was saying in response to Rohan's comment. "But if they'd been led by a Merida, I wouldn't have let them away so lightly."

Sionell turned to him with interest. "How did you know it wasn't?"

"Northerners can smell a Merida at ten measures, my lady," he answered with a tight little smile. "Ask your mother. She's from our part of the Desert." His brown eyes, startling contrast to the sun-gold hair swept back from his brow, lingered on her. She realized abruptly that he liked looking at her. She fought a blush as his attention returned to the High Prince. "Miyon's impudent lately, though, which must mean he has a new ally. I suspect Meadowlord."

"Chiana and her Parchment Prince," Walvis said sourly. "They've a natural affinity with Miyon. I can't believe Chiana's insolence in Naming her son after her grandfather-and her daughter for her wh.o.r.e of a mother."

Hollis blinked large, innocent eyes. "I'm surprised she didn't Name him Roelstra."

Rohan grinned and rapped his knuckles on the table. "Now, now, children. We can't encourage such disrespect for other princes-next, you'll be insulting us! Tallain, will incidents increase or decrease along the border?"