The housecarls poured out of the hall. “They’re home! They’re home from the All-Gemot!”
The All-Gemot. Roric had completely forgotten about it. It was still ten days or so in the future when he rode away, which meant he really had been gone under a month, not the entire summer. That at least was a relief. He wondered if he would have accompanied Hadros if he had been here; he had been among the king’s warriors at the All-Gemot the last few years.
The big gate swung open, and the king and his warriors came through. Gizor One-hand was among them. Roric mingled with the back of the crowd as Dag and Nole hurried forward to greet their father, and as housecarls took the horses and baggage. Roric thought it a little surprising that no one seemed to notice him.
“But where is Valmar?” he heard Dag ask. “And where is Karin?”
“They are in Kardan’s kingdom,” said Hadros. From his tone it was impossible to tell if he was pleased or not. “Karin will stay, because some day she will be sovereign queen there.”
“And Valmar?”
“I shall tell you when I’ve had something to eat. You!” to one of the maids. “Is there no one here who will offer a man food in his own home? Karin would have had something hot ready for us,” he grumbled, heading into the hall.
King Kardan. That was Karin’s father. Roric went into the hall with the rest, forgetting to keep himself hidden although still no one seemed to pay him any attention. She had told him, of course, that she was her father’s heiress now, something the faeys seemed to find very exciting, but it was like having half the castle suddenly disappear to have her gone.
Tonight he would not bother the king, hungry and tired as he was. But in the morning he would ask to be released from his oath of loyalty to him. Since Hadros had tried to have him killed anyway, he should be happy to have him go. Then he would go to Karin and offer himself to her as her warrior as well as her lover.
He tried uneasily to remember where Kardan’s kingdom was. He knew it was somewhere across the channel, but he had never crossed the channel in his life.
The king’s younger sons asked about Valmar again once Hadros and the warriors who had accompanied him had wolfed down bread and cheese and stewed mushrooms and had started the ale horn around for the second time.
“Well,” said the king slowly, leaning back on the bench with his elbows behind him on the table. “Valmar will stay in Kardan’s kingdom this summer with Karin. In a few weeks I shall return there with suitable betrothal gifts, and they shall be married after the harvest.”
There was a shocked silence. “I’ve gotten back just in time,” thought Roric.
The king’s younger sons were nearly as surprised as he was. “Did- Did you decide for them, Father?” Dag asked at last, hesitantly as though fearing his father was about to choose a wife for him as well.
“No, although I am well pleased with their decision.” The king showed his teeth in a smile for a second. “It seems they had fallen in love themselves, something Karin, that sly lass, tried to keep from me. Valmar,” with a shrug, “was happy enough to fall in with her plans.”
“But she does not love Valmar!” cried Roric. “She is in love with me!”
No one appeared to hear him.
The maids and housecarls began talking at once about the upcoming marriage, until Hadros looked up with a frown. “Enough of this chatter. I shall not have those who serve the royal family engage in idle talk about us. Karin and Valmar will be married here and live here at least half the year, until her father dies. Or I,” mostly under his breath. “That is all you need to know.”
The men started drifting off toward the loft house, some of them still speculating-and once they were out of Hadros’s hearing, in language he would never have tolerated-about how far Karin’s and Valmar’s love had progressed. The consensus seemed to be that Valmar was quite a lad to have won the cool princess.
Roric went up to the king, who was yawning now and pulling off his boots. “I meant to wait until tomorrow to speak to you,” he said, “but I can wait no longer.”
Hadros looked straight through him and unbuckled his sword belt.
Roric leaned against the wall for support. No wonder no one had said anything to him. No one could see or hear him. He had returned from the Wanderers’ realm but returned in such a form that he might as well not be here.
He wandered out of the hall, picking up a piece of cheese and eating it distractedly as he went-at least food was still real to him. “But the troll could see me,” he thought.
How far did this extend? Would others still be able to feel him? Would a sword still cut him?
He followed the warriors and housecarls up the ladder to the men’s loft. Someone bumped against him in the dark and said, “Excuse me.” So he could still be felt then, even if not seen.
Exhausted and shaken, he stretched out in the straw. Invisible, he would have to stow aboard a ship across the channel in the hope that once there he could find Karin and her kingdom even though no one would hear when he asked directions. But what good would it do him to be there, the silent and unseen observer, if Karin and Valmar really were in love?
He awoke to the sound of his name. “Roric! What are you doing here?”
He sat up abruptly. Early morning sun came through the small window. One of the warriors who had accompanied King Hadros leaned on his elbow next to him. “I didn’t see you last night! Did you come back while we were gone? Did you really meet the Wanderers?”
“Can you see me?” Roric demanded.
“Of course I can see you,” with a laugh.
So he was back. The lords of voima only knew what had happened to him, but at least it was over. He jumped up. “I have to talk to the king, find out more about this marriage between Valmar and the Princess Karin.”
“I can probably tell you more than Hadros is likely to.” Roric sat down again slowly. “You know he always treated the princess very delicately, as though even her ears were made out of glass. Not that he minded her doing all the work to direct his household! But she seems to have decided to take matters into her own hands as soon as she was out of the kingdom. I’d heard, of course, of sovereign queens with a whole string of lovers, who still profess their purity and keep serious suitors dangling, but I’d never believed it before.”
“But what happened?” asked Roric through cold lips. This could not be Karin they were discussing.
“The second night we were there, she took young Valmar with her on a ride up into the hills and did not come back until the next morning. I saw them when they returned, and I don’t think there can be much doubt what happened,” with a chuckle.
Roric kept his hand from his knife by sheer will.
“I think King Hadros moved fast to make sure his son wasn’t just one more in a string of lovers, by getting her to agree to their marriage. But I don’t think he’s made a formal offer to her father yet; that’s why we have to go back in a few weeks. If you come along, you’ll see for yourself.
“But what about you?” the man added. “Was that really someone with no back? And where did you go?”
But Roric was no longer there. He went down the ladder in one long jump and strode across the courtyard. Since Valmar was not yet of age, he had not yet sworn himself to him, and no oath would keep him from killing him.
Roric had almost forgotten his own voyage to the Wanderers’ realm in the news about Karin, and he was not prepared for the stunned face Hadros turned on him when he interrupted the king in the middle of his porridge and beer.
“No, of course I did not run away,” he said quickly. “I’ve been in the land of the Wanderers, though it turned out it was not a Wanderer who summoned me. But I intend to leave this kingdom now to cross the channel, and I ask to be freed of my loyalty to you.”
The king stared at him as though he had not understood a word, then very slowly began to smile. “Both Valmar and Karin tried to persuade me you had gone with the Wanderers, that the lords of voima might really take a personal interest in people like you and me. Perhaps I should have believed them.” He reached out abruptly to clap Roric on the shoulder. “How does it feel to be a warrior of voima out of the oldest tales?”
“No, you do not understand,” said Roric. “One thing I did learn in the land of the immortals is that they are not creatures of honor and glory-or at least not the ones I was with. I never spoke with the Wanderers themselves. There is much more purpose in life here as a mortal than there could ever be in that realm.”