Abasio had a puzzled look. “But twenty years or so ago, when Tingawa sent an embassy to Norland, it presented itself to King Gahls.”
“True,” said Precious Wind. “But prior to that time, it had also presented itself to each of the principalities or duchies within Norland. Tingawa was very careful to reach out to Hallad, Prince Orez, and to the Dukes of Wold and Kamfels.”
“You say Ghastain was semi-mythical . . . ,” said Xulai. “And Huold?”
Precious Wind smiled. “Both really did exist, Xulai, but it is unlikely Ghastain was the mighty warrior legend tells us of. If one overruns an unarmed village of fewer than one hundred people, many of them children, and then calls it the ‘Great Battle of Lake Cohm,’ we may be excused for thinking hyperbole may be involved. Ghastain did have a friend and supporter named Huold.”
Xulai asked tentatively, “Wasn’t he said to have some powerful device?”
Bear grinned widely, shaking his head. “That’s the legend, yes. In Ghastain’s last great battle with the Sea People, Huold was carrying some miraculous device that had belonged to Ghastain. No one knows what it was.”
Abasio was once again staring at his boots, from which he seemed to gather some unspoken intelligence. “Is Justinian the only great landholder who’s not related to the king or to Mirami?”
“Ah, well, my friend,” Precious Wind remarked with a sly smile. “You cleave to what may be the heart of a trouble. It is true that Justinian, Duke of Wold, counts Wold as part of Norland. Also, Hallad, Prince Orez, counts the isle of Etershore, his fiefdoms on the west of the Icefangs, and quite a large chunk of country down the Dune Coast—all collectively known as Orez—as part of Norland. Falyrion, Duke of Kamfels, always counted the lands to our north as part of Norland. However, each of these places has always passed from prince or princess, from duke or duchess, to an appropriate heir, and each has always ruled independently rather than at the pleasure of the so-called king, whoever he might have been.”
“Couldn’t Duke Falredi have been succeeded by his sister?” asked Abasio.
Precious Wind frowned. “Justinian, Duke of Wold, says Genieve could have been legitimate heiress of Kamfels only if there had been no male heir: that is, if Hulix were not Falyrion’s son. In that case, King Gahls would have respected her right to the duchy. As the situation is now, however, the king likes having both Altamont and Kamfels more closely tied to Ghastain.” Her nose twitched as though she smelled something vile. “And with Mirami whispering in his ear, he will likely not be satisfied with anything less than complete power over all Norland. And now Justinian’s wife is dead and Wold has no heir.”
“Yes,” murmured Abasio. “Now the princess is dead. Was she sick the whole time they were married?”
Bear nodded slowly. “On the morning of her wedding day, Princess Xu-i-lok fell ill and the wedding did not take place.”
Precious Wind said, “The princess rallied, however, and it was thought she would recover. During that seeming recovery, Justinian and Xu-i-lok were quietly married, here at Woldsgard, by two priests, one from Wilderbrook Abbey and one of our own religion attached to the Tingawan embassy. These dual rites were performed to forestall any talk of impropriety in either Tingawa or Norland, for even the court of King Gahls submits to the sacerdotal rulings of the abbey . . .”
“On some matters,” sniffed Bear.
“True,” Precious Wind admitted sourly. “The princess’s father, Prince Lok-i-xan, witnessed and approved of both ceremonies. Shortly thereafter, the sea war worsened, and he had to return to Tingawa. It was he who later appointed Xulai as his daughter’s Xakixa.”
Abasio asked, “You speak often of this war with the Sea People. Has anyone ever figured out why the war happened at all?”
“Ah,” murmured Precious Wind. “It’s a great mystery.”
“They hold us responsible for something or other,” said Bear. “A debt going back to the Big Kill, maybe before that. Perhaps over land . . .”
“I find it difficult to believe it’s a matter of land,” Precious Wind commented. “The Sea People don’t occupy land. They don’t have legs, after all. They don’t breathe air.”
“It was said on the islands that Prince Lok-i-xan had met with the Sea People and agreed to some kind of settlement, but that settlement was somehow delayed or disrupted,” said Bear.
“Do they make demands? Do they take hostages?” Xulai asked.
“No and yes,” said Bear. “Sometimes they take hostages to make fishermen stop fishing in certain places. More often, they just sink the fishing boats, though they don’t stop rescuers from saving the sailors. Sometimes they demand that people quit spilling things into the sea, like the poisonous tailings from some mines or the filth from some cities.”
“But why stop all ships from going across the sea to Tingawa?”
Bear shrugged. “As Precious Wind has said, it’s a mystery.”
Xulai sat in silence for a long moment, finally asking: “How old was I when you brought me here?”
“Oh, a mere baby,” said Precious Wind, peering at her from below tented brows. “You were an orphan child of Clan Do-Lok, so young as to be barely able to say ‘horsey’ or ‘kitty.’ Bear arrived when you were a bit older.”
“Am I carrying Xu-i-lok’s soul now?” Xulai had been holding this question unasked for some days, but she uttered it now in an innocent tone, as though it were not really important.
Precious Wind looked out the window at the sky. “We don’t know, though it is probable you are,” she said at last.
Bear shrugged. “I thought it might be different with princesses, but I guess it’s the same. The truth is, no one ever knows until a Xakixa returns to Tingawa. It is after the return that the lantern light comes on . . .”
“Lantern?” Xulai demanded.
“Ah,” murmured Precious Wind. “The name of each family member is carved on an individual stone tablet, and the tablet holds
