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be handled immediately," he said as he turned to Thomen. "I may be my father's
heir, but I have no business ruling Holtun-Bieme. Not now; maybe not ever. The
crown stays where it is. You will continue to help my mother rule."
"Jason!" Andrea drew back, shocked. "You've just "
"I may have just returned home, but there are matters that must be handled
now, Mother." The boy drew himself up straighter, his face holding no trace of
passion, or of compassion. "Bren will help you rule, too. He's one of you "
"
Damn you.
" Bren Adahan shook his head. "Damn you, Jason Cullinane."
The boy looked like he had been slapped. "What?"
Tennetty stiffened, her eyes narrowing slightly, her stare softening only
fractionally when Aeia laid a gentle hand on her arm.
"You, your father, and that arrogant bastard Walter Slovotsky have always been
the same," Bren said, letting the long-repressed fury flow. "You think that
you're the only ones who care, you think that you Other Side people are the
only ones that..." Words failed him; he flailed an arm helplessly. "...that
all this matters to. You had better understand me, Jason Cullinane: There are
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others of us in this, too. You think Aeia doesn't care? Do you think she isn't
a part of it?"
Aeia smiled at him, cocking her head to one side. For more than the thousandth
time it occurred to him that there was nothing Bren Adahan had or could have
that couldn't be bought by one of those smiles.
"...or Garavar?"
The old general nodded grimly, briefly clasping a strong hand to Jason's
shoulder.
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"...or the rest of the warriors? Do you think they aren't part of it?"
Feet shuffled on the dirt, while grim faces stared levelly. Standing side by
side, Pirojil, Durine, and
Kethol faced Jason, each raising a hand in a sketchy salute, huge Durine
adding an encouraging smile.
"...or Ranella?"
The master engineer raised inkstained fingers in a brief acknowledgment, then
returned to her private thoughts after her lips briefly moved:
I'll build you your railroad, Karl, I promise.
"...or Thomen?"
Thomen, Baron Furnael, the son of the man who had had Bren's father killed,
the great-grandson of the man who had kidnapped and raped Bren's
great-grandmother, extended a hand to Bren
Adahan and clasped it firmly.
"Or even that crazy one-eyed attack bitch of yours?"
Tennetty smiled at that.
"If you think this revolution your father began is the property of the
Cullinane family," Bren went on, "you're wrong. It belongs to everyone. We're
all in this together; we each have our parts. Fine:
Thomen will help your mother rule Holtun-Bieme; that's what he's good at.
Agreed, I'll help; I'll do what I can. Of course, Garavar will command troops,
while Pirojil and Durine will fight;
Ranella and Lou Riccetti will build; U'len will cook. Ellegon, Aeia, Doria we
all do our parts. But so will you, Jason Cullinane. You'll do two things for
the rest of us."
"And those are?"
He wanted to say:
You'll tell your sister to marry me.
But he wouldn't say that. Partly it was a matter of pride. Besides, it
wouldn't make a difference. Aeia was just as stubborn as the rest of her
family.
"First, you'll work like a dog trying to learn everything you need to, so you
can do your part, whatever that is. I don't think you know, yet; I surely
don't."
"Agreed," Jason Cullinane said. His voice, while no louder, somehow seemed to
gain depth and power. "And second?"
"Second, you'll accept that the rest of us are part of it, too," Bren Adahan
said quietly, each word
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way; each and every one of us."
There was a little something of his father in his eyes as Jason nodded and
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looked from face to face, finding something there that he had not seen before.
And there was more than a little of his father in his voice as he folded his
arms across his chest, nodded slowly, and said, "Your terms are agreed to,
Bren Adahan."
His mother took Jason's hand. "Then come in and rest. There is much to do
tomorrow."
"No." Gently, he pulled away from her. "No," he said. "There is much to do
today. Today." His face was emotionless, but his eyes were wet. "Tennetty."
"Right here."
"My swordsmanship needs work. While it's still light." Tears ran down a stern,
unmoving face.
"There is much work to do, and the day isn't over. Let's get to it."
"Quite right," Tennetty said, with a shrug and a smile. "Walk this way," she
said, walking twenty steps away and then drawing her sword, mirroring Jason.
While steel rang on steel, the words seemed to echo:
There is much work to do, and the day isn't over.
The crowd dispersed until only Bren Adahan, Thomen Furnael, Doria Perlstein,
and the two
Cullinane women were left with the dragon.
*Could that not have waited?* Ellegon looked down at Bren. *You leave him
little time for private mourning.*
Perhaps.
Bren nodded his head.
But I'm not sure he has much time. He is Karl's heir.
*As are we all. The fire burns more brightly each year, doesn't it?*
I don't understand
*Of course you do.*
Great wings folded tightly against his side, the dragon lowered his saurian
head, turning toward
Andrea. *I... am so sorry, Andrea. I loved him, too.*
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