Elvenborn Read Free Page A

disinherited on the grounds of insan¬ity?" That was Triana's interest; anything that barred another female from inheriting could eventually be used against her.
    "His mother is not my sister," Aelmarkin replied. "She's not the next heir of blood-descent, as you so clearly were for clan Falcion. If Kyrtian were removed, the estate would come to me, naturally and legally."
    "She's probably the one running things, then," Tennith pointed out. "If she doesn't want to be sent back to live in her
     
    father's household, she has to make it look as if your cousin is competent."
    "That may be, but I've no hope of proving it," Aelmarkin growled, wishing that Lady Lydiell had resembled the child at his feet rather than the clever creature she was. He recalled his intended pose, and forced a laugh. "Well, I suppose the Council had to rule the way that they did. Lord Jaspireth told me rather tartly that if fitness to hold title and property was to be judged on the basis of unusual hobbies, half the Council would lose their seats."
    "Half?" Tennith laughed. "More like three-quarters! Looked at in that light, it's obvious you are a victim of necessity."
    Aelmarkin signaled to his wench to refill his goblet, and sipped at the vintage with deliberation. "Much as I would like to see the lands of my clan administered properly, I suspect they will come to me in time, anyway. Kyrtian shows no sign of mar¬rying, which in itself ought to prove his unfitness, and it's en¬tirely possible he'll manage to break his neck, or do something equally foolish to himself, as he careens around the countryside."
    "Break his neck?" queried the second lady, looking puzzled, as did her escort. "I'm afraid I'm rather lost, Aelmarkin. I don't know anything about your cousin. Who is he? Is he doing something dangerous?"
    That triggered laughter among some of the others, who were more familiar with Aelmarkin's cousin than she was. Triana took pity on her—probably because the lady's escort was nei¬ther clever nor outstandingly handsome—and explained.
    "We've been discussing Kyrtian V'dyll Lord Prastaran," Tri¬ana said, giving Aelmarkin's cousin his full name and title. "Surely you've heard something about him?"
    The lady shook her head. "Not really," she confessed, then realized that Triana was patronizing her, and put on a cool air as she tried to save the situation. "But I don't pay much attention to the provincials."
    Aelmarkin snorted. "He's certainly provincial, I'll grant you that, Lady Brynnire. He never leaves the estate unless he ab¬solutely has to. He could get a seat on the Great Council if he only worked at it, but he won't even try! Instead, he spends all
     
    of his time collecting books and studying—of all the nonsensi¬cal subjects—military tactics!"
    "Military tactics!" Triana erupted in peals of laughter. "Oh, Aelmarkin, even if he is serious and not seriously unbalanced, just who does he think he's going to use military tactics on? Everyone knows the humans and the halfbloods don't have real armies! They don't fight proper battles! And as for the Young Lords—"
    She stopped, because it was entirely possible that this was a touchy subject for some of Aelmarkin's other guests. But Tennith, whose father was highly placed in the Great Council and thus was the highest-ranked Elvenlord present, finished her sentence for her.
    "The Young Lords are a disorganized pack of rabble," he said loftily. "Once a solution is found that negates their ability to nullify magic, they'll dissolve and come crawling back to their fathers, begging forgiveness. In the meantime, it is impossible to use tactics against someone who doesn't know what the word means."
    "Oh, that isn't the best of it," gloated Lord Pratherin. "He not only studies this nonsense, he practices it! Personally, I think he's never gotten over playing in the nursery with toy soldiers; he just does it now on a grander scale." When Brynnire still looked confused, he leaned over the couch in her