The Prize in the Game

The Prize in the Game
Jo Walton
Copyright Jo Walton 2002
Creative Commons License http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0
TABLE of CONTENTS
I - Taking Up Arms
1. (Conal), 2. (Elenn), 3. (Emer), 4. (Ferdia)
II - The Feast of Bel 5. (Conal), 6. (Elenn), 7. (Emer), 8. (Ferdia)
III - Atha ap Gren
9. (Conal), 10. (Elenn), 11. (Emer), 12. (Ferdia)
IV - Amagien's Feast
13. (Conal), 14. (Elenn), 15. (Emer), 16. (Ferdia)
V - Connat
17. (Conal), 18. (Elenn), 19. (Emer), 20. (Ferdia)
VI - The Suitors
21. (Conal), 22. (Elenn), 23. (Emer), 24. (Ferdia)
VII - The Battle at the Ford
25. (Conal), 26. (Elenn), 27. (Emer), 28. (Ferdia)
VIII - Taking Responsibility
29. (Conal), 30. (Elenn), 31. (Emer), 32. (Ferdia)

I have been a prize in a game
I have been a queen on a hill
From far and far they flocked to see me.
White am I, among the shadows,
My shoulder is noted for its fairness
The two best men in all the world have loved me.
My crown is of apple, bough and blossom.
They wear my favour but my arms are empty.
The boat drifts heedless down the dark stream.

I - Taking Up Arms

1. (Conal)
"My parents are always fighting," Elenn said.
Conal looked at her. She really was a distractingly beautiful girl. He had thought so even when she had first arrived in the king's hall, wet and bedraggled, with her huge-eyed little sister standing beside her. Here in the sunny orchard with the blossoms around her she was the loveliest thing he had ever seen. His father, the poet Amagien, had already written about her looks in extravagant terms. But it was very hard to look at her and deny that her hair was reminiscent of black night or her eyes of stars. She looked like Nive herself come down to walk among men for a season. It was a pity she didn't have wit to match her looks. All she seemed to care about was having everyone adore her. This was the first time she had said something that wasn't directly about her, and even this wasn't far away. "Always?" he asked.
"All the time," she confirmed, smiling a little as if she could see something Conal couldn't. "
"What about?" he asked, mildly interested despite himself. He knew she was only walking with him because Ferdia and Darag couldn't be found and she didn't want to walk alone.
"Everything," she said. "Anything at all. What weapons the three of us should be taught. What colour my sister should wear for the Feast of Bel. What crops the farmers should plant and in which fields. Whether the hall needs new rushes yet. If we are to go to war with Muin this summer. If my brother should marry Atha ap Gren. Who is the father of the white cat's kittens."
Conal swallowed hard. He was glad they were alone. He knew that if anyone were to catch his eye at that moment, even Darag, he wouldn't be able to keep himself from laughing aloud. Elenn looked as serious and as beautiful as ever. In the month she had been at Ardmachan she had already reproached him for laughing at her at least a dozen times. "Some of those matters are of great import, and others are very trivial," he said, as calmly as possible.
"I know," Elenn said, composedly. "Sometimes they will fight about whether this is the way a king should behave."
"My uncle Conary would say that it is not," Conal said, definitely. He had heard Conary's lectures on kingship often enough. They were always made to all the royal kin, though it was Darag he always looked at, and Darag whose questions were answered first.
"My parents have very different ideas about kingship from King Conary," Elenn said, looking up at him under her lashes in a way he would have found enchanting if he could have believed for a minute that she liked him.
"Which of your parents is the king of Connat anyway?" he asked, realizing that he did not know for sure. "I think I have always heard them mentioned together."
"Both of them are of the royal kin," Elenn said. "My mother, Maga, was the daughter of the last king, Arcon. My father, Allel, is her cousin. When the kindred came to choose, many of them wanted Maga, for her wisdom, and others Allel, who was remarked as a warleader when he was young. So it was agreed that they should marry and give each other the benefit of their skills."
"And they've been arguing ever since?" Conal asked.
"Oh yes," Elenn said. They were almost through the orchard. Conal could already see the oak tree his grandfather used for a school. Emer was there already, pulling a flower apart intently. Leary and Nid were playing fidchell with leaves in the dust. There was no sign of Darag, or Ferdia and Laig, or of Inis himself. "I think marriage of cousins is very wrong, do not you?