Lady Warhawk, page 18
part #4 of Zygradon Chronicles Series
Don't be ridiculous, you old meddler, Meghianna retorted, weary laughter in her voice. When Athrar's daughter is born, everything will change. For all I know, there will be no need for a Queen of Snows after me.
That means you intend to live forever, I suppose? he shot back, laughing to cover the sudden panic that chilled him.
Of course not, But the future is so very hazy. I can see Garad bringing his wife here to give birth to their son, and perhaps his grandson after him, but beyond that... I don't need to know. A long silence followed.
Meggi? Mrillis blamed his panic on the fact he hadn't slept in three days, but knew better. What's wrong?
I just realized--I said Athrar would have a daughter, didn't I? How odd. It just slipped out, and I almost didn't hear myself.
I'm sure Indreseen will be delighted with the news.
No, she won't be Indreseen's daughter. This girl will have strong magic in her blood. And she holds Braenlicach in her hand. Meghianna sighed. I don't see her mother's face, but she has Athrar's eyes and his mouth. Ha! And she wears a helmet and chain mail and leads an entire company of women in armor. Yes, the Lady Warhawk will soon be among us and... She sighed. That is all. How strange. My head...
Enough. You have done enough and seen enough for today. Rest, my dear. Enjoy your grandson and the new life born into the Stronghold, after all these years.
If it will make Athrar feel better, tell him about the girl. But don't tell him Indreseen isn't her mother. He has enough cruel things to think about.
* * * *
With the southern half of Lygroes continually under siege, Noveni who had held onto their land for generations finally relented and migrated back to Moerta. As the moons of the war crept by and winter gave way to a grudging, cold spring, the southern quarter of Lygroes became entirely the property of the Encindi forces, rebel enchanters, and any outlaws and bandits who could find a way through the Wayhauk Mountains.
To the north, crops sprouted and people repaired homes and farms and tried to find some semblance of normal life. Athrar positioned his armies along the northern base of the mountain range, to keep watch. He commissioned ships on either coastline to keep raiders from slipping around the barrier to attack coastal villages.
Entire garrisons farther north were emptied to establish garrisons and watchtowers throughout the mountain range, to keep watch and ensure the enemy didn't send forces through undetected. For ten leagues north of the foothills, farms and villages and estates were forcibly emptied and the people removed, to create a wasteland the enemy would have to cross before they could attack. The land gradually found some peace.
The peace was an illusion, but it allowed the defenders of Lygroes to step back and rest, even if it was a fitful rest. Athrar returned to Quenlaque for the first time in nearly eight moons. He gave orders to refurbish the castle and prepare for a feast of thanksgiving to the Estall for all that had been accomplished. Then he prepared to travel to Moerta, to fetch his queen home.
King Markas sent through the Threads, asking Athrar to wait until he could come through the tunnel to him. He said nothing about bringing Indreseen with him, and passed on no message from her to Athrar.
Meghianna and Mrillis hurried across Lygroes to be there with Athrar. When Meghianna tried to contact Megassa, to find out what could be wrong, her sister refused to answer. She received a faint impression through the Threads of sorrow and fury and fear--and guilt.
When they met up with Athrar and Lycen, they had no news and speculation did them no good. Athrar's communication with Indreseen during the duration of the war had been irregular. He had little to say to his wife, who demanded that he come to Moerta and establish the Warhawk throne there, totally abandoning Lygroes to the Rey'kil and Encindi.
Instead of arguing with her, Athrar admitted now to his companions that he had ignored his wife's demands. They had little to say to each other. She didn't want to hear about the war and he didn't want to hear about how bored she was or her new clothes or hair styles. He hadn't worried about the total lack of communication from her during the last two moons, when he had been so busy with the reorganization.
Meghianna watched her brother, saw the brooding light in his eyes, and wondered if he blamed himself, or if he was too tired from nearly a year of war to feel anything. She suspected he no longer felt anything for his childish bride, either love or irritation, and that lack of feeling bothered him more than any worry over what Indreseen had done. They filled up the journey to Bo'Lantier by talking about the rebuilding efforts, the reports from the southern frontier, as the Wayhauk Mountains were now called, and the fact that little Garad was crawling all around the Stronghold.
Their party reached the tower only a few hours ahead of King Markas. They unsaddled their horses, set their escort soldiers to keep watch, and slipped through the protective bubble of magic woven around the tunnel mouth to wait.
What has happened? Meghianna demanded of Megassa for what felt like the hundredth time. She felt as if the apprehension that had settled over them all would suffocate her.
The girl isn't a featherhead, but the most devious, lying, selfish little-- Megassa's outburst made Meghianna dizzy for a moment. Someone should have slapped the idiot child until she gained some sense, years ago.
What has she done? Whatever she did, it was her choice. You did the best you could.
Yes, but if I had left her in Quenlaque, maybe someone would have kidnapped and killed her, and spared us all the trouble of having to execute the selfish little brat ourselves.
Execute her? For what? No-- Meghianna opened her eyes and found Athrar watching her, his face grim and set, his worry bright in his eyes. She almost could have laughed at the realization that he did still feel something for Indreseen, and the laughter would have been mixed with tears.
Only the deepest treachery merited the execution of a queen.
Let Markas tell you, Megassa said. I'm too furious to think clearly. The silly brat cries and begs me to help her. The worst part of all this is that I still love her. With a final shriek of vexation, Megassa cut their communication.
"Whatever Indreseen has done, Megassa doesn't know whether to coddle her or spank her." Meghianna said, more thinking aloud than addressing her companions. Sighing, she let her son lead her over to a bench to sit. "Thank you, dear. Sometimes I feel very old."
"You? Old? Mother, you will always be young, faster and smarter than all of us." Lycen kissed her hand after he helped her sit. The gallant gesture lost some of its effectiveness when his lips touched her gloved hand, but they managed to smile at each other.
They didn't have long to relax. Mrillis sensed the approach of Markas' party just moments later. The clearing enclosed in the bubble of magic seemed to hold its breath. King Markas emerged from the shadows of the tunnel first. Queen Glyssani rode next to him, looking smaller and grayer than she had more than a year ago, when she had gone to Welcairn with Indreseen and Megassa.
Markas dismounted first and helped his mother down from her horse, then gestured for the other members of their party to wait. He gestured at the tower, saying nothing. Athrar didn't hesitate to acquiesce to his half-brother's silent request, but led the way into the tower. The six of them stayed on the ground floor. Lycen shut the door to give them some privacy.
"There's no way to soften it," Markas said, as he helped Glyssani sit on a bench against the wall. "Athrar, if I had any warning... It was all done with magic. Megassa agrees with me. Blood magic mixed with threads and imbrose, to block us on all levels."
"What was done with magic?" Athrar asked, his voice dropping to a harsh rasp.
"Indreseen has taken a lover. Several, if you can believe her hysterical ramblings," Glyssani said. Weariness muted the anger that gleamed in her eyes. "Sometimes she blames you, and she's proud of herself. She's proven she doesn't need you. Other men can make her happy, and she's sure you haven't kept your promises, either. Then other times, she's repentant and devastated. She's especially annoying when she begs me to promise you will forgive her."
"You think she's playing a part, then, and not truly remorseful?" Athrar looked at the floor in front of his boot toes, as if the scuffed stone paving held the answers he needed.
"I think she's lost her mind," Markas said. "If she was only mad, we could annul the marriage and have her put away somewhere, to be watched over and kept out of trouble."
"Only mad," Lycen echoed. Then his head snapped up, and the hand resting on Meghianna's shoulder stiffened. "No."
"What?" Athrar demanded. He took a step toward his brother, then changed course and went down on one knee in front of Glyssani. "Mother?"
"Indreseen is pregnant. Perhaps four moons along. She's sane enough to have kept it hidden this long. She tries to claim it's yours," Glyssani said with a shrug. "Athrar, I'm so sorry." She cupped his chin in her hand and gazed into his staring, stunned eyes. "My dear boy, if I could have prevented this--"
"I haven't seen Indreseen in more than a year. We haven't made love in an even longer time, because we were fighting before she went away." He drew back, getting to his feet. "There's nothing I can do to save her from justice. I'm not sure I want to." A harsh bark of laughter broke from him, and he turned sharply to Meghianna. "What do I do? What's right?"
"Justice says she has betrayed you and the kingdom," Mrillis said, saving Meghianna from answering with harsh truth. "The penalty for treachery is death. The penalty for trying to put a child not of your blood on the Warhawk throne is death."
"But the innocent child must be allowed to live," Meghianna said. "Let her be locked away, but taken care of so the child is not harmed. When the baby is born, then it will be time to put her on trial and decide her punishment. And let us pray the Estall she is indeed insane, because then she will receive some mercy."
* * * *
"We are going about this all wrong," Mrillis said, coming into Athrar's workroom in Quenlaque Castle, "but I wouldn't know where to start to tell you how to do it right."
"What's happened now?" Lycen asked. He and Athrar exchanged questioning glances.
Mrillis was glad Athrar had his foster-brother to lean on in this time of personal and political turmoil.
"Megassa has decided it is neither her nor Indreseen's fault this happened," he announced after dropping into his accustomed chair at the table.
By old habit, he glanced at Meghianna's usual seat, but she was busy in Moerta, hunting for the father of Indreseen's child. The more Indreseen and her servants and guards were questioned, the more sure the investigators grew that magic had been used. Indreseen's mind was clouded on times and details, and those who should have been watching her had false memories--so many that Meghianna feared some damage had been done to their minds.
"Because of the magic," Athrar said wearily. He closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat. "There was nothing Megassa could have done to prevent someone with magic from sneaking in to visit...her." His mouth twisted with distaste. Mrillis felt another stab of sympathy for Athrar's wounded heart.
"Megassa blames us because she didn't have enough imbrose to detect what was being done, and block it," Mrillis said. "Oh, she doesn't say it aloud, but you can pick up on it in her expressions, the things she starts to say and doesn't. It has to be galling to her to know that people loved her and trusted her because she hobbled that magic, and now when she needed it... she feels she failed Indreseen. She believes, quite loudly and repeatedly, that the girl was under the influence of another, and she is innocent."
"We can't dig fully into her mind to decide if that's true until after the baby's born. The search would kill the baby." Lycen thumped his fist on the table. "Has anyone decided what to do with it, when it's born? If Indreseen is innocent, taking the baby would be cruel--and making her keep it would be cruel."
"Whoever the father is has great power, strong imbrose," Athrar said. "I consider it a given that whoever impregnated...her already has woven magic through the baby, to control it when it's grown up. Just like with Triska and Endor and Trevissa."
"Hmmm, yes," Mrillis said. "The Nameless One is up to his old tricks."
"What if the Nameless One is the father?" Athrar whispered. Mrillis wondered how long he had gnawed on that possibility and let it gnaw him, before he finally spoke it.
"We again face the dilemma--destroy an innocent child, and commit a great evil, or take the risk that the seed of evil waits to sprout in that child." Mrillis understood the weariness that wrapped around Athrar. He had been facing this dilemma for his entire life.
"It's bad planning all around," Lycen offered. He shrugged when the other two looked at him. "If our enemy had hoped to put a bastard on the throne to control Braenlicach, shouldn't he have waited until Athrar slept with his wife again, so he could believe the baby was his? It doesn't make sense to get her pregnant now. Maybe...getting her pregnant now was a mistake, and a blessing," he finished on a whisper, and cast a miserable look of apology to Athrar.
"A blessing." Athrar nearly choked on the word, but he nodded. "If that is so, then may the Estall grant us many great and good things to come from this pain."
Three hours later, the men were dealing with the details of reinforcing the frontier garrisons when Mrillis heard Meghianna's mental voice. He held up his hand to silence the two younger men so he could listen.
What have you found? he asked. Are you all right? You sound strange.
It's not what I found, but who. Meghianna's mental voice trembled. Do you know where Pirkin and Ynessa are right now? I know they're not in Goarlotte.
Yes, I just talked with them. They're visiting Glyssani at the fortress. Why?
Bring them. Fetch their sons from their duties, and bring them through the tunnel as soon as you can. Sooner. Mrillis... Lynzette deceived us.
Lynzette? It took a moment for him to remember the name, to attach a scowling face and sharp voice to the name. But she's... She isn't dead, is she? Mrillis pressed a hand over his heart and sank back in his seat. He heard Athrar and Lycen asking if he was all right, but he waved away their questions. Ynfara?
We found them on her cousin's estate, in the mountains of Iork. Lynzette has friends with enough magic to hide their presence. She's nearly insane with her hatred. Bring Pirkin and his family quickly. The girl is terrified of anyone with magic. I just hope she has enough memories of her own family that she will go with them.
* * * *
King Markas and Queen Lyriel came to Meghianna's rescue in dealing with Ynfara. The girl had a strong sensitivity to magic being worked and it caused her discomfort. Markas and his wife removed their star-metal, effectively blunting their imbrose, and that allowed the too-quiet, too-watchful girl to relax in their presence.
Eight years of living in near-solitude in the wilderness of Iork's mountains had resulted in the sweet, laughing child growing into an adolescent more like a forest creature than a princess. Lyriel had a private garden inside Welcairn Castle, and she gave it over entirely to Ynfara, so she could have her privacy and wander barefoot among the bushes, trees, and tiny pools, with no risk of her running away. She had tried a dozen times since Meghianna's searchers had stumbled upon the cottage in the valley full of shadows.
Lyriel spent long hours there in the garden with the girl, talking with her, coaxing her to try on pretty new clothes and jewelry, to have her hair braided and adorned with ribbons and flowers. Meghianna watched from a tower window and marveled at the queen's patience. She never would have thought to turn the task of taming the wild child into a game, so that Ynfara wanted to dress up and learn how to dance. Meghianna had always seen courtly manners as a wall that prevented truth and action. Now, they were a gossamer bridle that tamed a child who had been raised on lies and fears.
Lyriel worked wonders in just the three days it took for Mrillis, Pirkin, Ynessa and their three sons to arrive at Welcairn Castle. Meghianna almost wished she had waited, even a few more days, before calling Mrillis with the happy news. Then again, she had waited four days already, until she could be sure that none of Lynzette's allies among the Rey'kil-hating Noveni could free her and kidnap Ynfara. They had tried twice, on the journey from Iork to Welcairn. It would break Mrillis' heart, to have his great-granddaughter returned, and then snatched away.
That morning, Pirkin and Ynessa walked into the garden where Lyriel and Ynfara practiced a dance step. Meghianna watched from her window and wished she could be there, to rejoice with her friends. Ynfara no longer fled from her presence, but the resonance of her magic still bothered the girl.
Ynfara stopped in her little twirling spin, and the laughter faded in her throat. That was progress--Meghianna had expected her to crouch down as if expecting to be hit, to hide her face, and flee into her tent. Now, she looked to Lyriel and stayed tall and poised. Then she slowly turned to look at the two newcomers again. Meghianna sent up prayers to the Estall, desperate for a miracle.
"These people have come a very long way to see you," Lyriel said. She stepped up behind Ynfara and rested her hands on the girl's shoulders. "Do you remember them?"
"Hello, Ynfara," Ynessa said. Her voice trembled, but stayed sweet. "We've missed you so very much."
"Mama?" The girl's voice was a whisper, but Meghianna heard it, as if even the trees in the garden held their breaths, waiting for the answer. Ynfara turned her head to Pirkin. "Papa?" She crumpled to her knees on the garden path. "Grandmother said you died!"
Meghianna breathed a sigh of relief at that bit of information. No wonder Ynfara had been reluctant to talk of her family. She had been silent through grief, not anger. Meghianna had dealt with kidnapped children several times in the past. The hardest ones to heal had been told that their parents didn't want them, had sent them away or even sold them to their kidnappers. Healing would be easier for Ynfara, because the lie was easily proven as a lie.
