again, and once more after that!

‘It cannot be,’ Shrewd said regretfully. ‘They have beliefs of their own, up in the mountains. A wedding made in winter yields a barren harvest. You must take her in the autumn when the lands are yielding, or in late spring, when they till their little mountain fields.’

‘I cannot. By the time spring comes to their mountains, it is fair weather here, with Raiders on our doorsills. Surely they must understand that!’ Verity moved his head about, like a restless horse on a short lead. He did not want to be here. Distasteful as he found his Skill work, it called to him. He wanted to go to it, wanted it in a way that had nothing to do with protecting his kingdom. I wondered if Shrewd knew that. I wondered if Verity did.

‘To understand something is one thing,’ the King expounded. ‘To insist they flaunt their traditions is another. Verity, this must be done, done now.’ Shrewd rubbed his head as if it pained him. ‘We need this joining. We need her soldiers, we need her marriage gifts, we need her father at our back. It cannot wait. Could not you perhaps go in a closed litter, unhampered by managing a horse, and continue your Skill work as you travel? It might even do you good, to get out and about a bit, to have a little fresh air and …’

‘NO!’ Verity bellowed the word, and Shrewd turned where he stood, almost as if he were at bay against the windowsill. Verity advanced to the table, and pounded upon it, showing a temper I had never suspected in him. ‘No and no and no! I cannot do the work I must do to keep the Raiders from our coast while being rocked and jolted in a horse litter. And no, I will not go to this bride you have chosen for me, to this woman I scarce recall, in a litter like an invalid or a witling. I will not have her see me so, nor would I have my men sniggering behind me, saying, “oh, this is what brave Verity has come to, riding like a palsied old man, pandered off to some woman as if he were an Outislander whore”. Where are your wits that you can think such stupid plans? You’ve been among the mountain folk, you know their ways. Think you a woman of theirs would accept a man who came to her in such a sickly way? Even their royals expose a child if it is born less than whole. You’d spoil your own plan, and leave the Six Duchies to the Raiders while you did it.’

‘Then perhaps…’