Free King's Shield by Sherwood Smith Page B

the others that. “Why is Horsebutt doing it? What can he think he’s going to get?”
    Cama said, “A future crown.”
    Inda understood at last: marriage negotiations over future daughters and Evred’s firstborn son. Those were usually settled by treaty a generation or even two generations before birth. But if there had been so many attacks and deaths—like in his own family—
    Tanrid. Inda remembered his brother’s warm fingers ruffling his hair over his ear. How that memory hurt.
    Cherry-Stripe said, “People are talking about future babies and alliances because Evred says with the war and everything so uncertain we Tveis ought to marry, and the Ains ought to get heirs born right away. Not to wait until we’re forty like usual. Imagine being forty!”
    “We might not make it to forty,” Cama muttered.
    Cherry-Stripe snorted. “That seems a real enough possibility. Especially after Inda’s news.”

Chapter Nine
    HADAND gripped Tdor’s shoulders. “What would you say, Tdor,” she breathed, her eyes bright, glittery, full of tears. “What would you say if I told you that Inda is coming home?”
    Tdor’s nerves flared, then chilled to snowmelt. She had arrived in the royal city that day from the long ride north, having spent most of it rehearsing what she’d say.
    And in the space of a single breath, the weight of painful choices was gone, flown like a caged bird tossed into the air.
    Hadand laughed now, an unsteady laugh as the unheeded tears spilled over. She smeared them away with her palms, and then hugged Tdor. “He’s coming home, he’s coming here. He’s probably a day or so to the north. Maybe less. Can you believe it? After all these years!”
    Tdor gulped down a sob. “D’you know what brings him?” she managed, her voice high and squeaky. Not that she cared.
    Hadand sniffed and wiped her eyes again. “The Marlo-Vayir Runner only said that Inda has news for the king. Oh, Tdor. I’ll send one of my own Runners back to Choraed Elgaer, as soon as we actually see Inda, to tell my mother. You must stay here and greet him. Mother will be so happy!”
    The two embraced again, laughing and crying.
    Hadand had received Tdor alone in her own rooms, and now waited for Tdor—who looked about from window to door to table as if she had never seen such objects before—to recover.
    Tdor could not yet believe she was being given back what she had wanted all her life. She felt light as a bird as they shared a quick meal, and then she accompanied Hadand up to the sentry walk, where the wind had died down, leaving a clear sky.
    The early-spring slant of the sun was not nearly strong enough yet to be hot; it felt good on the backs of their shoulders as they sat easily on crenellations watching the girls of the queen’s training at knife practice below, as Hadand caught Tdor up on kingdom news.
    “. . . and guess whose daughter Horsebutt is trying to force us to take as future wife to our son?”
    Tdor shook her head. “Wasn’t all that set out in treaty before any of us were born?”
    Hadand looked grim. “Yes. But you don’t realize how many of those careful marriage treaties have been disrupted by war deaths.” She twiddled her fingers. “The next queen was supposed to be descended from the Ola-Vayir heir, but he died defending the coast. And his brother wasn’t to have children. They want to change that, to get a connection to us, but Horsebutt wants to prevent the Ola-Vayirs from gaining any extra influence that he might gain himself.”
    Tdor pushed her palm away, a gesture of warding. “Who? Horsebutt can’t possibly be trying to break his own family treaties, or he’d have trouble with the clans. So—oh, ugh, not Mudface?”
    Dannor Tya-Vayir, Horsebutt’s sister and wife to Hawkeye Yvana-Vayir, had been the most unpopular girl in the queen’s training, even more disliked than Cama’s wife, Starand Ola-Vayir.
    Tdor rested her chin on her hand. “But didn’t Hawkeye’s family have