House of Shadows(38)

“Well, whatever else you may say of Miskiannes, it is above all a nation of tradesmen,” commented the first young man, a trifle snidely.

“All nations are founded on trade,” Taudde said, a very Miskiannes opinion. “Do you yourself await the coming spring with eagerness, then, my lord?” He didn’t add his uncle’s opinion, from time to time forcefully expressed, of excitable young nobles who considered adventure more important than profit.

“The treaty merely deferred hostilities,” began the young man.

“A welcome deferral,” murmured the prince. Everyone at the table naturally quieted to hear him. “Fifteen years without open violence; half a generation for tempers to settle… Most likely they have not settled enough. But it was the best that could be won, at the time.”

“And hard won at that,” one of the older men rebuked the snide young man. “You young men don’t know what those days were like, or how hard the Dragon worked to force that treaty upon the ice-hearted Kalchesene people, or you would be far less ready to decry Miskiannes’s elevation of trade above warfare.”

“Kalches can’t possibly win, however dedicated they may—” began the young man, his tone hot.

The older man cut him off. “When we have spent another generation or two of young men’s blood winning one stony field after another, you may find yourself less inclined to pursue victory!”

“Those fields, however thin and stony, rightfully belong to us!” snapped the young man. “Would you pursue defeat?”

Taudde set his teeth, lifted his goblet, stared intently into the straw-pale wine, and pretended hard to a neutrality he was far from feeling.

“Better, perhaps, to pursue a quiet spring,” murmured the prince, cutting off what had promised to be a sharpening argument. “Though there seems little hope of it.”

There was a tense pause. Taudde certainly did not break it, though he could not prevent himself glancing in surprise at Prince Tepres. He would not have expected the Dragon’s very heir, of all men, to express a wish for peace. The Seriantes Dragons had always considered that the lands to the north should by rights belong to Lirionne.

Enescedd might be protected by its wide enchanted forests, through which armies could not march; and Miskiannes by wealth and distance and most of all by the fortunate chance of having Enescedd between itself and Lirionne. But Kalches was protected only by its mountains, and those had never been enough. However hard the kings of Kalches fought to defend their people and their lands, they had nevertheless been forced to yield and then yield again, until now, since the Treaty of Brenedde, Kalches was able to claim less than half the territory it had once possessed.

And now the Dragon’s very heir wished for peace? If any Seriantes had ever wished for anything but conquest, Taudde could not recall his tutors mentioning it.

“So,” the third of the young men said at last, breaking the tension, “such interesting weather we’re having this year!”

Everyone laughed, the unpleasant young man a trifle reluctantly. The prince gave the humorist a slight nod of approval and sealed the change of topic by adding with dry amusement, “Whoever would expect cold breezes in the winter?” He turned deliberately toward Taudde. “Though in Miskiannes, perhaps, one would not?”

“Certainly not as you have here, eminence,” Taudde agreed. He set his goblet down again, gently.

“Oh, well, it’s not bad yet, but I promise you, Lord Chontas, plenty of snow will shortly come down off the mountains!” said the friendly, outspoken young man. “Ice will freeze down all the walls of the Laodd; it will glitter like the purest diamond. It is a most imposing sight.”

“Oh, imposing!” The remaining young man waved a dismissive hand. “Yes, the Laodd is imposing, if that pleases you. But for beauty in the winter, one must ride through the candlelight district. All the keiso Houses and aika establishments sculpt ice into flowers and birds and fantastic creatures. At night the theaters hang out lanterns bright as the moon, and the keiso have the mages make them streamers of colorful fire to float in the wind—is that something you do, Ankennes?”

The mage smiled. “I have been known to make such toys.” He had not seemed disturbed by the previous argument, and seemed equally comfortable with the present flippancy. His voice was smooth and deep, rich with humor, with very little trace of the coldness Taudde had heard in it the previous day. “It pleases the keiso, and is that not greatly to be desired?”

The other men laughed and agreed with this comment. A second course, of doves cooked with leeks and cream, was brought in on small copper-colored plates.