Mrillis was relieved that she spent much of her time in the Stronghold, maintaining a
web of communication through the Threads with all the Valors, making it possible for Athrar to
have eyes spread across the entire continent. She was in a safe place, behind walls of stone and
magic. He sometimes woke from nightmares of the devastation that would wash across the
landscape if the Queen of Snows were harmed, or killed. Even stronger was the utter devastation
that would take him if he lost Meghianna.
The war dragged on, even when the fall rains turned to ice storms and snow covered the
landscape. The Nameless One sent armies of mindless soldiers against the Warhawk's forces;
men who were barely alive, unable to feel pain or react to the foul weather.
Lycen was injured late in the fall, and Athrar sent him to the Stronghold to recover. He
was there, at Ilianora's side, when she gave birth to their son, Garad.
Through the Threads, Meghianna showed Mrillis and Athrar the newborn lying in her
arms. Later, speaking privately, Mrillis teased her that she was disappointed, that she had hoped
Ilianora would have a daughter, whom she could designate as her heir as Queen of Snows.
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."