Lady Warhawk (33 page)

"We will need Braenlicach, of course, to help us locate all the star-metal that was
foolishly tossed into the sea by the less enlightened," Megrant concluded, gesturing casually at
the sword at Athrar's side.

"You?" Athrar's smile turned cold and flat as he approached the edge of the dais. The
delegates on either side of Megrant took a step back. "How do you propose wielding Braenlicach
in this task, when you are not of the Warhawk's bloodline? Ah, I just realized your cornerstone in
this plan. Which of my traitorous nephews believes that because he is Efrin's grandson,
Braenlicach will accept him and not burn him to a cinder?"

Silence met his words. Meghianna was pleased to see a few uneasy glances among the
delegates. Good. They weren't all complete fools.

"What arrogance makes you think I would willingly give Braenlicach into anyone's
hand, even assuming it would not destroy him? What foolishness has made you so conveniently
forget that many Encindi possess
imbrose
, too? If we somehow manage to cover the
Encindi-held territory from shore to shore with star-metal, what assurance do we have that the
Encindi won't turn around and use it against us?"

More silence. More glances. Meghianna wondered if anyone had brought up that
argument against the plan, and had been shouted down--or if someone used magic to blind them
to the flaws in the plan.

"We have a trigger for the entire spell that will incinerate the Encindi before they can act
against us," Megrant said, his voice as stiff as his posture.

"Do you? What is it? Not Braenlicach."

Athrar stepped up to the edge of the dais, so the toes of his boots poked over the edge.
"Where is this trigger? It must be a massive amount of star-metal. Or do you have the most
powerful enchanters in the world on your side, and they have agreed to work with you?"

He turned to his right and to his left, looking first at Mrillis and then Meghianna. "No,
they are still with me, and if they had agreed with you, they would have had the honor to tell me
long before this. So they are not your proposed triggers. What is it?"

"The Zygradon," someone said from the knot of supporters standing behind
Megrant.

"The Zygradon is still lost, hidden where my daughter put it just before her death,"
Mrillis said, his voice and face calm. "If someone had found it and raised it from its hiding place,
I would have felt their hands on the bowl and heard the Threads chime at the disturbance, and I
would know its exact location. No, you do not have the Zygradon."

"The sword is bound to the bowl," Megrant said, and earned a little respect from
Meghianna by taking a step closer to the dais. "The sword will reveal the location of the bowl,
we are very sure. With the Zygradon, we can put all the star-metal in the entire world where we
want, and make the star-metal destroy all Encindi, once and for all."

"All Encindi? Even the ones who have been living in peace with us for so many years,
who fight alongside us and serve as Valors?" Meghianna said.

From their hesitation, she knew some in the group hadn't considered that
conundrum.

"If we strike at the main body of the Encindi, those left alive will feel duty-bound to
avenge them. At the very least, their loyalty to us will be torn, because we have killed their
blood-kin. Do you remember the days after Queen of Snows Lady Le'esha died?"

"The Rey'kil blamed the Noveni for her death. Do you remember how all Noveni tasted
the wrath of the Rey'kil rebels?" she continued. "People who had lived in peace here on Lygroes
for generations were counted as the enemies, just because they were Noveni, not because of
anything they had done.

"Would you bring that back? The Encindi who live at peace among us possess
imbrose
. They know what it is like to touch the Threads and feel the unity of minds
around the world. They have magic at their fingertips. Do you think they will willingly give up
that magic to create a weapon to destroy their relatives? Do you think they will peacefully
surrender this weapon into your hands, and trust that they will be allowed to live in peace and not
counted as enemies?"

She stood, and the entire delegation stepped backwards. "I will make a bargain with you,
King Megrant. If you can find the Zygradon, without the help of Braenlicach or the Stronghold
or Wynystrys, then I will give you all the star-metal stored in the Stronghold to shape your
weapon. But let us not talk of destroying a third of Lygroes until you have taken that first, key
step. Are we agreed?" she said, meeting Athrar's and Mrillis' gazes.

"Agreed," Mrillis said, bowing to her.

Athrar drew Braenlicach, earning gasps from several in the court. Her brother saluted
her with the sword, rested his hand on the bare blade, and sealed his agreement to the plan.

From the sour, dark expressions on the faces of the delegation, Meghianna knew they
were too aware of how difficult it would be for men who didn't have
imbrose
, who
didn't trust star-metal, to find the bowl that bound all the Threads of the world together. She
hoped they would be so busy in their quest that they would have no time to cause more trouble
for Athrar. She hoped they all died in their quest, either of old age or injury, she didn't care.
Sometimes, even the Queen of Snows was allowed to indulge in fury.

* * * *

Mother?
Ilianora's voice startled Meghianna awake, just a short time after she
had gone to bed that late winter evening.
Please, Mother, we need your help.

The hint of tears in Ilianora's mental voice roused Meghianna out of bed before the
words registered in her mind.
What's wrong?

Lycen. He's sleepwalking again, and this time I can't get him back to bed. I'm afraid
he's going to leave--he's breaking down the door!

Meghianna threw a cloak over her nightdress and ran barefoot down the long
passageways to the wing of the castle where the Valors with families lived. She was relieved to
see Ilianora had exaggerated, but only just. Lycen staggered down the hallway, clad in nothing
but his sleeping shorts. The door of their suite hung open and the air rang slightly with the use of
imbrose
. Meghianna decided her daughter-by-law had used her own
imbrose
to
hold the door closed. Ilianora likely had a horrid headache from the battle.

What do you mean, 'again'?
She sent a soothing touch through the Threads, as
she waited for Lycen to pass her. He walked with his shoulders hunched, legs stiff, eyes
half-closed and focused on some point in the air far in front of him.

He's been sleepwalking for nearly a moon. Not every night, but I've been up with
Garad and nightmares enough times to be worried.

Nightmares? It could be spells wrapped around all of you, but the touch is heavy
enough to disturb Garad and... Never mind. I'm calling for help. You close that door and hold it
closed until I call you. I'll take care of Lycen.

Meghianna roused Mrillis. She called Athrar, and found him out riding in the moonlight.
She smiled when she saw Ynfara's laughing face in her brother's mind.

Well, it's about time the two of you acted like sweethearts.

Good timing,
Mrillis commented as he joined her in the hallway and they
followed Lycen, cloaking themselves to be invisible and silent, and doubly watchful for a spell
that might make Lycen turn on them at any moment.

Hardly good timing,
Meghianna retorted as they followed Lycen up the stairs.
They followed him down the hallway lined with the small rooms assigned to unmarried noble
daughters in the service of Queen Glyssani.
Lycen will respond to Athrar when he won't
respond to me.

No, I'm afraid it's very good timing.
Mrillis caught her arm to hold her back,
and pointed at one door in particular.

As if she had written the story herself, Meghianna watched as Lycen struggled to open
the door of Ynfara's room, then staggered to a stop in the middle of the floor. Standing where
they were, both enchanters could see the room was empty, the bed still neatly made and the pegs
that held Ynfara's clothes had two conspicuous empty spots--the clothes she wore right that
moment, riding with Athrar in the chilly moonlight.

"Caught!" Lord Parcef cackled, leaping out of hiding from behind the tapestry at the end
of the short hallway.

Other nobles, most of them the fathers and brothers of girls who hoped to trap Athrar
into marriage, leaped out of other hiding spots. Meghianna noted that several of them used the
rooms other girls occupied. They converged on Lycen and grabbed hold of him, shaking him,
shouting accusations against him and Ynfara.

"The girl isn't here!" Meghianna shouted, making herself visible with a flash of brilliant
white light. Mrillis kept himself invisible, and she nearly called him a coward before she realized
that was a wise move. After all, the accused girl was his great-granddaughter.

She nearly laughed aloud at the dismay and shock that covered their faces. Then Lycen
came fully awake. He looked around, his face going white. He pressed one hand to the back of
his head, and the other hand to his stomach, and lurched forward. He saw her and gave her a
pitiful, confused look.

"Mother--" Then he lost the remains of his supper on the floor. Appropriately, most of it
splashed on Lord Parcef and several of his accomplices.

Perfect timing,
Mrillis repeated, as the accusers and Meghianna and Lycen
waited for Athrar and Ynfara to ride through the castle gates a short time later. Pirkin had been
roused by two more scheming fathers, eager to accuse his daughter of immoral behavior. Their
dumbfounded looks and Pirkin's righteous outrage as he yanked his shoulders free of their grasps
nearly made Meghianna laugh.

She seethed too much over the contrived neatness of the situation to laugh over their
enemies' disappointment. Enough people had remarked on how Indreseen threw herself at Lycen,
when she and Athrar had quarreled. Enough people knew that Ynfara and Athrar were attracted
to each other. And what could be more damaging to the Warhawk's mind and heart than for the
girl he hoped to marry to be accused of adultery with his adopted brother, his most trusted
Valor?

"Majesty," Lord Parcef growled, not even giving Athrar and Ynfara time to dismount.
"We caught Lord Lycen entering Princess Ynfara's room, undoubtedly to engage in--"

"Yes, yes, I know." Athrar shook his head, and his flat little smile irritated and mystified
Meghianna. "Break his vows as a Valor, break his vows to his wife, and sleep with a girl who
has received my marked intentions. Outrageous. Especially since every one of you is angry that I
favor Princess Ynfara over your insipid daughters."

His smile widened and grew colder when several men expressed outrage. "We can have
this argument in the courtyard here, where every servant and anyone else who cares to wake up
can witness our words, or we can take this indoors. By the way, King Pirkin, I must beg your
forgiveness in spiriting your daughter away on private rides every night for nearly an entire
moon now."

"You must beg my forgiveness, Majesty, in allowing you to think you got away with it,"
Pirkin said. "Ynfara has kept her mother and me carefully informed. Especially in light," he
added, raising his voice so it nearly rang against the cobblestones and walls, "of the spell that has
been trying to control her actions for the last year. We knew she was riding with you, we knew
every time you two stopped somewhere to talk, and we knew when she returned." He turned and
raked the infuriated nobles with a cold glare. "It seems we were wrong to be relieved that the
magic had released its hold on Ynfara. It was only to focus all its strength on Lord Lycen."

"A likely story," Parcef sneered. Several of his cohorts muttered and mumbled behind
him, but Meghianna noted that some of them looked as if they were having second thoughts
about the trap they had thought to participate in.

Mrillis faded into view as the company assembled in the larger council room. He gave a
wintry smile to the men who noticed him, one or two at a time, as they jerked or let out sounds of
surprise and distress.

Meghianna saved her scolding for later. She gestured for Lycen to take the seat next to
her, and grasped his wrist to get a better picture of the spell that had made him so ill when it
retreated. The malevolence and tainted power were unlike anything she had encountered before.
The person manipulating her son had strength, but no finesse. The spell had worked like cracking
a nut with a blacksmith's hammer instead of using a tankard or the handle of a knife. The valiant
effort he had made to fight it had drained him.

Once they were assembled, Athrar ordered the doors of the council chamber closed. He
sealed them himself with
imbrose,
using Braenlicach for his source of energy.

Meghianna noted the ones who reacted uneasily to that display of Athrar's magical
power. Why did everyone find it so hard to comprehend that the Warhawk had
imbrose
?
She supposed it was all part of the mindset that came with people wanting so desperately to
believe the Warhawk was purely Noveni, with no 'taint' of Rey'kil blood.

The story came out in neat packages. Meghianna and Mrillis testified to the magic they
had noticed trying to force Ynfara and Lycen into each other's arms, how they had waited and
watched it, ready to help both unwilling parties to resist it, hoping to track the spell to its
originator. How the magic had loosened its hold on Ynfara, and how Ilianora had awakened
Meghianna that night to ask for her help in restraining Lycen. And how Meghianna hadn't known
he had been sleepwalking for nearly a moon now.

"That is because I was usually the one she called to keep him contained," Athrar said.
"She called me as soon as Lycen got out of bed and didn't respond to her voice. But tonight I
was..." He caught up Ynfara's hand and kissed the back of it. "Otherwise occupied and too far
away. King Pirkin, forgive the timing. We would rather make a more formal announcement in
more pleasant circumstances, but--"