Though Kieri wondered where Dorrin was and whether she had completed her task and about the future of Aarenis and whether a new ruler like Alured would rise to menace everyone again, the twins’ progress distracted him again and again. What would they do next? When would they speak whole sentences?
Then, in one tremendous downpour, the rains returned and continued for three days. The usually placid river near Chaya rose above its banks, flooding the water meadows. Every well in Chaya overflowed.
“She did it,” Arian said as they stood by the windows watching rain stream down.
“We don’t know that for certain,” Kieri said. “We’ve had dry years and wet years before.”
“The taig says this is different.”
Arian was right; he could feel that himself. Late as it was in the year, the rose garden burst into early-summer bloom. In the Royal Ride, wildflowers spangled the grass even as the rain continued. Then it vanished, leaving a blue sky and bright sun. The little river’s floodwaters went down with unnatural speed, leaving it bank-full of clear water. Days later, a courier arrived from Tsaia to report the same rain there, everywhere it seemed.
“Will she come back?” Arian asked.
“If she lived through whatever she did … maybe.”
Winter came with its usual snows, and in the spring the new growth returned. The twins were not just walking but running, busy, curious, and endlessly chattering. Tilla’s red hair had continued curly; Falki’s dark hair now waved a little. The first ships into the river port brought word that Alured’s domain had fragmented. The Immer ports formed their own alliance, based on the Guild League, and one of Alured’s captains ruled in Cortes Immer, apparently with no ambitions to extend his realm. Lûn and Rotengre were free cities again, though Rotengre retained a bad reputation.
Traders moved through Lyonya, along the River Road in the north, across the middle road through Verrakai territory, and even south from Chaya to pick up the South Trade Road near Halveric’s steading.
“We had to build an inn,” Aliam said one morning in Kieri’s office. “Otherwise they were camping anywhere and cutting down trees without noticing which were which. Though I suspect some intended to steal blackwood.”
“What about the road west?”
“That’s their problem,” Aliam said. “We talked to the gnomes, as you suggested, and they let us use what they call nedross rock. Good for roads. I told the merchants they were welcome to break it up themselves.” He set his mug of sib down on the table. “I am not turning road builder at my age. If my sons choose, they can, but being your military commander is more than enough for me.”
“Does it bother you to have that traffic there?”
“Not at all, so long as they don’t steal or make a mess of my groves. Remember, I left home to go fight wars in Aarenis. The elvenhome forest was a trap for the likes of me. I wanted more. Now Estil and I are back in the bigger world. Some don’t like it, of course, but not many. Sier Davonin, perhaps.”
“She complains about some things, but actually she likes the trade coming in, she told me,” Kieri said.
“What about the elves?”
“They’re adapting. And I’ve told them that I will never grant the deep forest to humans. They have almost as much land as before, and I’m enforcing some of the same rules, though not all of them. Outlanders can come through but not settle. Lyonya will always be different.”
“Good,” Aliam said. He stretched. “I’d best get back to work before the king decides I’m too old for my job.”
Kieri laughed. “Don’t start that, Aliam. You will be my military commander as long as you live—no one else here has the experience.”
Several days later, Kieri came into his office to find a man seated in a chair, with Falki standing between his knees. He stopped, startled: Who was this man, and how had he reached the office without being announced? He had never seen the man before in his life, he was sure of it. He looked foreign—perhaps someone who had come to Lyonya seeking work. Or a sailor come from the river port. Someone used to outdoor work, heavy-shouldered, in rough clothes. And why was Falki here? Where were the nursery maids who were supposed to be with the children at all times?
“I have waited a long time for this,” the man said. He smiled. When Kieri said nothing, he went on. “You do not know who I am?” The man held Falki firmly but apparently not harming him. Then he ran his hand over the child’s hair, stroked the side of his face idly, as one might stroke a favorite statue, while watching Kieri. Falki shivered, lips pressed together.