Crystal Warrior: Through All Eternity (Atlantean Crystal Saga Book 1) (45 page)

‘They mutinied,’ he said in a voice of utter disgust as if he'd not even heard her question. ‘The general troops took over Ahron's ships, threw overboard any, Commanders, Generals, or warriors, who stood against them and commandeered the supply ship. They sank the command kanzuc and brazenly returned to port under pretense of a troop-ship damaged by foul weather to secretly pick up their families and sail for a destiny unknown.’

‘I collect we're talking about my father's warriors?’

‘Your father's rat-pack more like! From the thirty-odd men of the Command, aside from those few who went with the mutineers, two survived, washed ashore on the coast of Gadeirus, more dead than alive and babbling about mutiny and men being ripped apart by sharks!’ Taur trembled with the fury that shook him. ‘I've fought alongside most of those men.  What happened to their oath of allegiance?’

Gynevra sat still with her hand buried in the wolf's fur, digesting Taur's disclosure and concentrating on relief the threat of invasion was over. Anything to keep the images of death from forming in her mind.

‘Didn't you take that oath and break it?’ she asked quietly. ‘Aren't you relieved we're no longer under threat from them? I know you'll never know now, but maybe they never intended to seriously threaten us anyway, just to appear to be following orders.’

Taur sat forward with his head in his hands and for a long time the only sound was the sigh of the evening breeze about the high castle walls and the cry of seabirds as they gathered to haggle for prime roosts along the cliffs.

At last he lifted tortured eyes.

‘I didn't break my oath easily, Gyn'a, and whatever their intention in coming against me, they were only following orders as they'd vowed to do. I understood that, even though it made me mad, and I would've honored them for it. Now, not only have they betrayed their oaths but they've left Fyr Poseidyr without protection of either ships or warriors, a prime target for every filthy pirate who ever sailed the seas!’

‘What is it about this that upsets you most?’ Gynevra asked, genuinely confused. ‘I thought my pavuon was our enemy and now he's been vanquished without sacrifice of a single Nyaldan life I'd have thought you'd be dancing with delight.’

Taur stood up and started pacing again, raking his hair back from his face with violent stabs of his fingers.

‘I should be! I should be crowing like a cockerel and breaking out the celebratory ale along with the Commanders, Generals, and City Fathers—and I might yet if I can get my head straight! But there's something in me that's just realized how tenuous a King's control over his people actually is. The moment we got that communication I put myself in Ahron's shoes and felt sick as a midden-bred mongrel. All I could think was, how would I feel if that was me? If my people, my Castle, my woman and my son, were left with only a city full of children, women, old men and Paggi dandies to defend them?’

The vision of her childhood home and many faces she held dear, a defenseless prey to ruthless ravagers was not one she dared let form. Gynevra drew in a steadying breath and her troubled gaze followed Taur as he strode past her yet again, then slowly she came to her feet and placing herself in his path held her arms out. When he came back to her, she wrapped them about his waist and hugged him close.

‘Gouging a foot trail in the balcony isn't going to change or solve anything,’ she said firmly, pressing her lower body against his. ‘Come bathe with me and maybe we can bring some clarity to your thinking.’

Sliding her hands around the muscular torso, over the flat, dark nipples and up to cup the clenching jaw, she traced a finger down the straight bridge of his nose and brought it to rest against the full lower lip. Slowly the faraway look of fury left his eyes and his focus centered on the woman pressing against his body.

‘Ah, Gyn'a,’ he murmured, dropping his cheek to hers and folding his arms tightly about her. ‘It was for you I broke my vow to Atlantis and its King, for there was no other way I could have you and I'd do it again. But there's still a large part of me that feels honor-bound to Ahron and his realm, that feels I should send him a pledge of assistance should he need it. I left the Council to their celebration plans in case I suggested it and they thought I'd run mad! It might win back the element among the greater Council and the general citizenry who feel I've betrayed them by seceding from Atlantis. But that's only a small minority, mostly Sons of the Dragon like myself who feel their roots are in Poseidonia. True Nyaldans are fiercely patriotic in their delight at being given autonomy at last.
They
would see me as a traitor if I showed any leniency to Ahron.’

Gynevra leant back a little and gently lifted his face so she could look into his eyes. Little by little she was discovering her big beautiful warrior king was a caring, thinking man. He was so much more than she'd expected and she'd loved him without seeing this side of him. How to cope with the wash of emotion threatening to fill her eyes with tears yet again?

Pressing her face against his chest until she'd regained control, she said, ‘I see it as an act of compassion. After all, you'd be ceding nothing by promising to act in case of invasion by hostile forces. You come from a position of strength. You have the warriors and ships. Ahron doesn't. You're not retracting your act of secession or even apologizing for it. Nor are you returning me to Qrazil. In fact you could very well be bringing a speedy peace to a war-like situation, which all should welcome.’

Taur held her against him a moment longer then said gruffly, ‘Come bathe with me. You're definitely going to sit in Council with me in future. You bring such clarity to every situation. I've had another problem on my mind for some time which I'd like to run through your thought processes as well.’

Much later as they lay back in one another's arms in the pool, Gynevra asked, ‘What was that other problem you wanted to discuss with me?’

Taur harrumphed and settled her more comfortably against his shoulder.

‘For some time now, I've been concerned about the youngsters in the Paggi House of Children—and the Temple House for that matter.’

‘In what way?’

‘If I knew specifically I guess I wouldn't be worried about it. But it seems to me that Paggi children these days are—not as balanced as they used to be? I
know
they're more intelligent and more beautiful or handsome, but those things are measurable or obvious. There's something else about them that bothers me. There are more outbursts of temper, more fighting, less ability or even inclination to rationalize or step back and take stock of another's point of view, as we were taught to do. I don't believe it's the fault of the teachers. They're following the same codes of conduct we were raised on and yet the children are less inclined to assimilate them. I thought it might be a general trend of the times so I checked out the Moera House of Children and the Qeggi House and found a very different story.

‘The young ones there are just as receptive to the training programs as they ever were with the same percentage of failures and rebels as at the time of Isidor's reign. Which begs the question, why are our Paggi children different? I can only come up with one answer. The breeding flabria. Most Paggi born now are second, and many even third generation, Dragon Blood. Have we bred beyond perfection to distortion and if so, how do I convince people to abandon the flabria and return to sacred partner siring?’

Absently Gynevra stroked her fingers up and down his arm under the water, her mind roving thoughtfully over the problem. At last she said, ‘I haven't been to the Moera and Qeggi Houses and in that perhaps I've been remiss but I think you're right about the Paggi children. They are much more volatile and—in some cases even schizophrenic—than they used to be. When you think about it, farmers have known for generations if you interbreed stock for long enough you strengthen genetic flaws along with desirable traits. I don't see why it should be any different with humans.’

Resting her hand against the slight rounding of her belly, she said, ‘I don't believe our son will be unbalanced. Solon certainly wasn't,’ she said with a hitch in her voice. ‘But I can imagine if I'd borne a son to Gotham he could've been. Now there was a man who was seriously unbalanced.’

Taur said gruffly, ‘I doubt people are going to be impressed by being told their children are unbalanced. I need a ploy to make them go for the idea of abandoning the flabria. Every Son of the Dragon, especially the younger ones just starting to make their money, will cry foul and I could have a revolt on my hands.’

‘You've said yourself the adult Sons of the Dragon are in the minority still. Have you considered there are more men who would be delighted at being allowed to sire their own offspring at no cost to themselves, than otherwise? In another few years this won't be so. Right now I think you'd garner more support than you'd lose. Stop thinking like a Son of the Dragon for a moment and think like a man who has to watch others sire his children on his woman and see if you don't change your perception.’

Taur dropped his head back to the edge of the pool and closing his eyes, said slowly, ‘There are many who feel I've cut them off from their perceived motherland by declaring independence from Atlantis, though there are just as many, if not more, who consider it a decision long overdue. Whatever a King does, he garners friends and enemies. I guess the trick is to make sure I always keep the balance in my favor.’

‘Perhaps,’ Gynevra conceded, ‘but personally I believe it more important to do what your heart tells you is right. That way you do it with conviction and commitment which is more likely to carry the people with you than if you only try to do that which you think will please them.’

Taur turned and took her face between his hands and gazed down at her, eyes glowing with a deep satisfaction.

‘I knew I had to have you by my side. You're the other half of me, that which has been missing all my life. You know I'll never let you go, don't you?’

Gynevra gazed silently back, her eyes wide and troubled.

‘Taur,’ she said at last, ‘if Ianthe dies I must—’

‘No!’ he growled fiercely, and stopped her words with his mouth.

Chapter 26

The fate of the Poseidonian fleet and King Cadal Isidor's magnanimous offer of aid, which King Ahron had rejected, had been the high topic of conversation and fierce debate for days. But by the time the Paggi of the city gathered for the luncheon to celebrate the completion of the Emerald Pavilion and Gardens the King had built in honor of the Queen, the Poseidonians were all but forgotten. The air was abuzz with the possibility the King might abolish the breeding flabria. As with all controversial topics there were many who spoke vociferously for and against and there were many more who rumbled and festered quietly below the surface.

Realizing they had a prime opportunity to discover what people were really feeling, Taur and Gynevra moved purposefully around the courtyard talking and listening.

Gynevra approached a group where Lord Camud, a leading city financier, was explaining to the library director and the chairman of the business association and their sacred partners how men like themselves would regain their attraction for women if the King abolished the law stating every Paggi child must be sired by a Son of the Dragon.

‘Great Lady!’ he greeted her, scarcely stopping to draw breath and briefly bending his knee. His sacred partner, Lady Ferena and the others went quickly to their knees.

‘Please rise. Let us not be formal today.’ Turning to Camud, Gynevra said, ‘The King is anxious to know what his people are thinking. Would you mind sharing with me your thoughts about the proposed change to the siring laws?’

Camud and his companions were quite vocal in support of the idea. Only Lady Ferena had little to say. Having ascertained their feelings Gynevra deftly encouraged each one to open up about their positions, their homes, their families, and their interests. To her surprise the Lady Ferena followed when she left the group, snagging her attention with a murmured, ‘Great Lady, may I have a moment more of your time?’

‘Of course,’ Gynevra said, with a carefully regal smile. Something about the Lady Ferena made her wary.

‘I didn't like to burst Camud’s little bubble back there but I just wish to register my support for maintaining the status quo with the breeding flabria. As a woman sacredly joined to a non-Dragon I have deeply appreciated the law. The DragonBloods have such amazing physiques, immense stamina, and in my experience anyway, are wonderful lovers. Camud is a good partner but he's not built like a Dragon. I believe the King is right about what is happening to our children and returning to general siring is important. But I'm hoping he'll hold off for at least a year before instigating the change for I'd like another chance to be seeded by him before that happens.’

Freezing a hard little smile to her lips, Gynevra said as graciously as she was able through gritted teeth, ‘I'll see the King knows of your sentiments in regard to this matter. It's been a delight talking with you.’

Fighting to keep her smile in place as she approached another group, Gynevra was a little dismayed at how she'd allowed the woman to drain her energy and turned aside to ask one of the many servitors to fetch her a glass of wine.

‘You look a bit tired,’ Taur commented later over a very rare private dinner in their apartments.

Gynevra sighed and adjusted the cushion at her back.

‘Talking to people is incredibly tiring.’

Taur grinned at her then helped himself to a charcoal-grilled beef roll stuffed with succulent local oysters.

‘No doubt you found, as I did, that those not of the Blood are for abolition and the DragonBloods are against it?’

‘Pretty much,’ agreed Gynevra, ‘though it seems the women would like to retain the status quo.’

It was impossible to keep her feelings from her voice.

Taur raised his brows enquiringly.

Suddenly her fatigue was forgotten.

‘How well do you know Lady Ferena, sacred partner to Camud, the city financier?’

Taur considered her for a moment with a smug little smile.

‘Actually, not well enough to remember though I think she may have a child by me.’

‘She does,’ Gynevra snapped, ‘and she agrees it's time to change the laws but she's hoping you'll wait until you've sired her next child.’

Taur wiped his hands on a linen cloth and laid it aside. Watching Gynevra from under raised brows, he asked, ‘When?’

‘If I have my way it'll be never!’ she cried, appalled at how volatile her feelings were on this matter.

Taur grinned wickedly. Surging up off his dining couch, he took her into his arms and whirled her out through the portico onto the balcony overlooking the city. Lifting her onto the wide stone parapet he circled her tightly with his arms then took her lips, his tongue probing for the inner essence of her. She wished the change of law could be instantly wrought but knew Lady Ferena was the more likely to get her wish.

Important, far-reaching decisions couldn't be taken without a deal of research and debate just as Taur was finding with his plans to build a Star Path pyramid. The bottom line for most people's arguments, for or against, was personal gain. Sighing, she slipped her arms about his body. The passion of his touch wasn't conducive to thought.

‘Gyn'a, I only have to think of you and I want you no matter how many women I take, or where or how. Just like that very first time. Sometimes it even frightens me a little, how you make me feel. Some would say it's not very kingly. But cloabad if I care just at this moment.’

Nor did Gynevra. Her fingers threaded through the tangle of his hair and she could see the tiny dancing reflections of the distant street-fires in his eyes. She knew they but hinted at the deeper fire within, knew he gave her more, conceded more to her within their relationship than any other Paggi Lord in Atlantis offered his sacred partner. Yet still she wanted more. Was it wrong to want all he could be, all he was as man to her woman, for herself alone? Was that un-natural?

He'd freed her breasts from her gown and cupping them gently in his huge hands, murmured wonderingly, ‘They're swollen. I didn't understand how increasing with child could make a woman more desirable. You glow, you swell with my seed, and I swell with an ever greater desire for you. I want to see and touch every change in your body that I have wrought.’

He bent his head to suckle. Gynevra moaned and swayed. Clinging to his naked shoulders she begged him to take her down from the parapet, to take her.

Gynevra's mornings were divided between the Temple and the Houses of Children. She visited each of the different Houses twice each tonn. The other mornings were spent in the Temple Clinic. Even so she visited Foab the Qeggi first thing each day for healing and to talk to him of communicating with the mind. At first he'd been sullen and unresponsive but hadn’t been able to maintain this attitude for long in the Queen's presence. To her surprise their sessions proved as healing for herself as they did for the Qeggi.

She'd talked to him of her life in the Temples, how terribly she missed her sisters, the pain of losing them. She talked of the simple devotion of Nyd and her stories of the Qeggi servitor from her childhood finally brought the light of a smile back to Foab's eyes and brought him to a point where he wanted to communicate with her. Tuned to his mind, Gynevra knew instantly he wanted to pledge himself to her in similar fashion. He longed to be her servitor in Nyalda.

When she gave him word for word the thought from his mind, his eyes widened with wonder and a smile even tugged at the corners of his mouth. The realization that here was one person he could communicate with quickly changed the smile to tears. Gynevra felt her own tears well at sight of it.

When the tears were wiped away, she gave Foab his first lesson in mind connection and deep mental concentration and was delighted with his instant understanding of the concept. Day by day as his physical body mended, she continued to work on his mental and emotional body. These were slower healing, and there were times when she wondered if it would all go for naught the moment he regained mobility. At least once every day he reiterated his intention of killing Lord Reggo and Judge Lomy. Each time she took the thought from his mind she reminded him that justice had already been served and that Lord Reggo at least was now far from Nyalda.

The day she asked him to be her personal servant and bodyguard was the day he began to really concentrate and work at receiving the thoughts from her mind as well as sending his to her. Two months after his mutilation, he came to Heceuda Castle as the personal servitor to the Queen. His presence, huge and dumb, caused quite a stir, not least because royalty were traditionally served by the Moera, not the lowly Qeggi whom most considered to be little above the animals.

Foab, it was noted, stayed as close to the Queen as Qerlim. Foab was a big man, taller even than Taur and much more bulkily built. His face was more open and formed with more symmetry than the average Qeggi. He tended to amble when he walked, rather like a bear but could move with a surprising agility if necessary.

Gynevra was aware not one of her people thought she should have brought such a creature into the castle, let alone allowed him anywhere near her person and conjectured as to her purpose in doing so. To her inner amusement she found herself imitating an expression she remembered well on the face of her movuon. Archinus Ianthe was mistress of the quelling stare, which reminded lesser mortals of their place and relative insignificance in the scheme of things and Gynevra discovered the device to be extremely useful.

Trouble was she'd often find a teasing thought in her mind, which clearly came from Foab, ‘The queenly look. Oh dear, a bad omen I fear!’ and be hard-pressed not to giggle.

Lady Nudon had been more vocal than the rest, missing no opportunity to criticize the woman who’d usurped her throne.

‘It's to be hoped as Queen you'll be as unrelenting in championing the rights of the Paggi, your own class, as you have been for that kapi. A Queen is judged by the company she keeps and so far you've befriended a wolf and a Qeggi kapi who is also a criminal! Not a record to inspire confidence.’

‘Foab was acquitted of any crime—and you forget your son,’ Gynevra said gently. ‘He's my greatest friend.’

Nudon raised her chin a notch.

‘Any delilah could do for him what you do.’

Gynevra nodded thoughtfully.

‘True, but he chose me.’

Nudon glared at her stonily for a moment then with a huff of indignation, stalked from the court.

Summer segued into autumn and feeling daily more cumbersome Gynevra often found herself gazing listlessly from the high windows onto the slowly coloring countryside. The bright, warm colors of autumn had always stirred a sense of magic within, but now she felt only the heaviness of grief. Solon would have been three years old and though she longed to hold this second precious babe in her arms her heart would ever yearn for the first. The growth of the darkness in her mind seemed to keep pace with the swelling of her womb.

Most afternoons she managed to seclude herself in the privacy of the Emerald Pavilion, where Difleer and Foab sought to distract her with games of tromuod or spenuoba. They'd be huddled over the board gambling with chestnuts or walnuts, Qerlim asleep with her head on her mistress's feet, when Taur would erupt among them with the restiveness of a penned stag.

Energy and virility flowed from him in waves and whenever he was near her, Gynevra also sensed impatience. He sought valiantly to hide this from her by talking of his hard-won progress in the Temple toward Dogon's level of enlightenment, of the planning sessions for the Star Path Pyramid which he'd finally got Council to agree to build, or sharing comical moments of the lively lessons in archery, spear fighting, and sword play he'd given the lads in the House of Children. The best days were when he brought funny little gifts to lighten her mood—a stone carved with an ugly face which yet had the look of himself, or a huge hen's egg. Double the normal size, the poultry maid assured him it would have two yolks and he'd brought it to her because he thought it knew how she felt.

Like double her normal size! When she'd carried Solon she'd been healthy and filled with zest, dancing the dawn latreia almost until the day of his birth. That Gynevra seemed impossibly young when she thought of her now. This pregnancy was very different. More often than not, she just wanted to hide her face from the world and not even go down to the Temple on her clinic mornings. It was difficult to understand for she was pampered on every side and her child's pavuon was proud and happy. She couldn't have said what more she needed, but there was a large part of her that felt empty and wretched when she should've been feeling fulfilled and contented.

Sometimes she just sat with her hand resting against the lustily kicking child in her belly while the tears poured helplessly down her cheeks. Then would the wolf creep to her side and slip her head under her arm and Foab would stand guard, turning aside any who came unless it were the King. Taur mumbled to Gynevra he believed the Qeggi would like to turn him away too, only he didn't quite dare.

With only a tonn to go before the birth Gynevra found herself a mess of conflicting desires. By far the most precious times were when she lay with Taur, her head on his shoulder, his hand resting on the bulge of her stomach. Every time he touched her she knew he wanted her. She longed to want him too but her body felt so heavy and ugly there was no desire in her any more, only a resentment for his. Before dawn he was gone to his kingly duty on the altar and she resented that too. Usually she didn't see him again until the sun began dropping to the western mountains. Even then there was generally someone waiting for the King's ear on matters that always seemed to be of the utmost urgency.