Lady Warhawk (8 page)

"No one can go into the Stronghold but the Queen of Snows."

"The spells that guard the Stronghold keep out all those who are not of the bloodlines of
the Queen's Ladies, and all those who were not born in the Stronghold. Your birth mother was
one of the Queen's Ladies, and you were born in the Stronghold. You can walk across the Lake
of Ice and through the Mist Gates without anyone to challenge you or bar your way."

"Lok said--" He shook his head, pressing his lips tight together to stop the words.

"Ah, let me guess. Lok said you were a nobody, a peasant boy, and you had no right to
be with the grandsons of the Warhawk, and certainly no right to call the Warhawk's heir your
brother. Am I right?"

"Not in those words." Lycen shrugged. "But close. He kept correcting me, every time I
called Athrar Thrarin, until Thrarin said he wanted to keep using that name." The boy shook his
head, almost violently. "It's not a dream, all this, is it?"

"No, lad." Mrillis reached across the gap between their horses and clasped the boy's
wrist. "It's not much comfort, but let me assure you, the Estall put you here in the middle of this
adventure, this story, for a purpose. You're needed."

* * * *

Their party reached the Tower of Bo'Lantier in the gray half-light of dawn, and
penetrated the magic shield that kept the vale hidden. Only Meghianna, Ector and Mrillis were
fully awake to appreciate the shimmer of magic as they rode through the shield, the crystalline
chimes and the flicker of rainbow splinters. Megassa, the boys, and the few servants who had
come with them, instead of taking the wagons down the river to act as decoy, all dozed in their
saddles. The three dismounted, and Mrillis twisted the Threads to wrap around the others and
keep them on their horses, so they wouldn't wake until it was time to go into the tunnel.

"Dear Ector." Meghianna sighed, the sound weary and touched with rueful laughter.
"You're ready to burst with curiosity, aren't you?"

"A man would have to be a blind, deaf fool not to realize who you are," the soldier
retorted, looking around the vale, with the tower standing like a dark streak against the
brightening sky. "All the magic that has wrapped around us, the change in you..." He glanced
sideways at Mrillis, then turned back to her and swept a deep bow. "Queen of Snows, can you
forgive a fool for all the insults I've given you over the years?"

"Insults?" She gaped for a moment, then laughed and wrapped her arms around
him.

Mrillis thought Ector's eyes would pop out of his head. The man held his breath, turning
bright red, and held perfectly still until Meghianna released him.

"I was flattered by your persistence. Did I ever tell you, Mrillis, that Ector asked me at
least twice a year to marry him? It's quite lovely to have such a loyal suitor. You and Kaldar
made me feel quite... decadent. A flirt, a vain woman, keeping such admirable men dangling all
this time."

"Please don't-- No, you aren't mocking me, are you?" Ector shook his head and turned to
Mrillis, bowing deeply again. "Lord Mrillis. I don't know what you want of me, but I'm here to
serve."

"And we have stopped for now, so we can tell you everything." He gestured at Athrar,
slumped a little in the saddle. "That boy is not Thrarin, son of Ianni the healer. He is Athrar
Warhawk, and his enemies have caught a whiff of his trail." Mrillis waited while the soldier
nodded, narrowing his eyes, and studied their small traveling party with that calculating, serious,
sharp manner that he had seen in only a handful of truly talented commanders.

"We're going into the tunnel--which I thought was more fable than truth, until about five
minutes ago. If Mrillis the Enchanter is with us... We head for Goarlotte?" Ector guessed.

"No, our enemy expects that of us, because King Pirkin is Lord Mrillis' grandson. I will
summon our allies to meet us at the other end, and we shall immediately take a ship back across
the sea. It's wasteful of time and energy and resources, and not something our enemy would
expect us to do." Meghianna sighed. "At least, we hope so. We will depend on you to teach all
these boys to be soldiers worthy of the Warhawk's service."

"For Ianni's sake, before anything or anyone else," Ector said, bowing again. His
crooked grin brought tears to Meghianna's eyes.

* * * *

Ector worked the boys like a drill master, earning the respect and admiration of Lok,
delighting little Garyn with his rough, demanding manner divided equally among the six boys.
Mrillis watched Ector during the two days of their journey under the sea, listened to him lecture
and quiz the boys. He doubted Ector would go back to his duties at the garrison in Quenlaque
when they reached their journey's end. The man was too valuable as a teacher and a mentor. If
Athrar didn't request that Ector be transferred to his company, the boy wasn't as intelligent as
Mrillis had always believed.

He was grateful for Ector's presence, his voice and talk of weapons and battle tactics, to
drown out the memories of other journeys taken under the sea. His life, he decided, had been far
too long. It was good to have company, loud company, and young voices asking questions,
teasing and laughing and arguing, to drown out the remnants of the past.

Megassa and Meghianna were quiet, and Mrillis only caught faint whispers of their
communications through the Threads. He watched the sisters' faces and saw only peace,
contentment over the reunion. He imagined it would take years, not a few days of traveling and a
common enemy, to heal the rift of sixteen years. Still, this was a good start.

He felt at peace with the world when their party reached the tunnel mouth. Then he
reached through the Threads and sensed a large company waiting just outside the magic shield
that hid the tunnel mouth from sight.

"Just what did you ask Markas for?" he said, turning to Meghianna. "We have enough
people and horses and wagons out there for an army."

"Markas mentioned Pirkin's family was visiting, when I contacted him." Meghianna
frowned and twitched her fingers, manipulating the Threads. "Oh...my. How can they imagine
no one will notice that large a company?"

"I'm sure Markas and Pirkin have a plan they consider quite clever," Megassa said, eyes
sparkling, mouth twitching with repressed laughter.

"We'll see," Mrillis growled, despite his delight at being able to see his grandson again.
He urged his horse forward and twisted the Threads to open the curtain across the mouth of the
tunnel. The filtered daylight spilled through at full strength, along with the sounds of birds and
the breeze in the sheltering trees, and the sight of two entire troops of soldiers, one in Goarlotte
livery, and the other in Welcairn.

Two man-shapes disengaged from the crowd in the bright sunlight, and stepped into the
now-revealed tunnel mouth. Pirkin and Markas. The king of Welcairn visibly searched the knot
of boys. Mrillis was pleased when he found Athrar and nodded salute to his half-brother. Just
because Markas was a king in his own right, that didn't mean he was too old to feel any jealousy
for his sibling. This first meeting couldn't be easy for him, even with years of preparation.

Megassa took over, introducing her boys to the two kings. Meghianna remembered how
her sister had loathed etiquette and politics, but Megassa had picked up a few tricks during her
years of exile. It amused her to see some of those watching faces grow wide-eyed with awe at the
face and form of the elegant noblewoman.

Then Meghianna stepped forward with Athrar and Lycen. The murmurs from the
soldiers went to perfect silence. Meghianna wished the elegant clothes Megassa had insisted on
providing for her had at least one long veil. It was ridiculous, she knew, to obscure her face when
anyone with eyes knew who she was by her white hair. Those stares from the soldiers grew more
intense when Megassa introduced Lycen and Athrar as her sons. She could almost hear the
question uppermost in all those male minds--who was their father? What man was brave enough
to risk the Lake of Ice and the Mist Gates, and win the favor of the Queen of Snows? And most
important--where was the man now?

Oh, my, I just thought of something horrid,
Megassa thought to Meghianna
when she shared that realization with her sister.

What? How horrid?
Meghianna smothered a grin when she heard the distinct
laughter in her sister's mental voice. Now would not be a good time to burst out laughing.

You're going to get a reputation as a man-eater.

A what?
Meghianna almost spoke aloud.

If you have no husband, no father for the boys, people are going to think you took
lovers and destroyed them to keep them from smirching your reputation. Or you might have
married a man, but he...died for some reason. Naturally, the man who won your affections would
trumpet it across the land. Especially if he could get you pregnant. It's a disgusting trait in men,
but what can you expect? They take all the credit for children, anyway.

Meghianna couldn't smother a giggle. The sisters linked arms and avoided looking at
each other in an effort to maintain their control. Meghianna toyed with what her sister had said,
all the long ride to Welcairn Castle and from there to the coast. She had plenty of time to think,
because the boys were in their element, surrounded by soldiers who made a valiant effort to
entertain the sons of two such royal ladies. Mrillis rode between Pirkin and Markas, talking, and
though Meghianna tried to listen, she couldn't pick up one word. That meant Mrillis employed a
shield so that no one could hear what he told the two kings.

Markas plans to travel back to Lygroes with us,
Mrillis reported.
That will
nicely cover the convoy of ships crossing the sea. It's time for his annual visit with Glyssani and
Efrin. He's looking forward to Athrar meeting his niece and nephew.

Poor Athrar, having nephews and a niece close to his own age. I've caught the boys
teasing each other a few times already. When Athrar wants to lord it over Lycen, he insists he's
his uncle. When Lycen wants an advantage, he insists he's the older brother.

I'm glad they can tease each other,
he said after a moment.
Athrar will
need both his brothers when he stands before the Warhawk's court.

Meghianna ached for Mrillis. Though Pirkin and his three sons had come to greet the
travelers and help escort them from Welcairn to the seaport, Ynessa and little Ynfara had not
joined them. She knew how much Mrillis had looked forward to seeing the little girl, and Ynfara
had been heartbroken at not being able to see her great-grandfather as well.

"It's Lynzette," Pirkin confessed, speaking in low tones to Meghianna.

They sat in a shadowy corner of the harbor inn's main room, which had been taken over
by their entire traveling party. It was crowded and too warm, and noisy enough to make her head
ache--meaning it was perfect for a private conversation. Pirkin watched his sons, who had made
themselves honor guards for Athrar, Lycen, and Megassa's four boys, and had already fallen into
the role of older brothers to all six boys. He leaned close, so his shoulder pressed against
Meghianna's, and weariness colored his tone and face.

She noted that Pirkin no longer referred to his stepmother as "Mother". She wondered
how long that had been going on. Probably since all three sons had shown strong
imbrose
, and Lynzette had flown into a rage that had been gossiped about for
moons.

"Ynessa isn't feeling well, and she decided to stay in Goarlotte, much as she wanted to
see you and Grandfather again. Ynfara cried herself sick when Lynzette announced that a little
girl couldn't go on such a long trip without her mother." Pirkin shuddered. "Sometimes I wonder
if Ynessa's illnesses aren't a little too convenient. To keep us from...breeding more half-bloods,
as some relatives have said far too loudly in my hearing."

"And as King of Goarlotte, you can't react to such filthy talk without causing more talk,"
Meghianna said, shaking her head. "Is there any way of getting her out of your castle, sending
her back to her relatives, without causing a scandal?"

"Short of finding evidence of our suspicions? We try to keep her away from Ynfara and
the boys as much as possible, but it's hard. She puts on such a sweet, grandmotherly mask. The
boys know she's a fraud, but Ynfara... A girl needs a grandmother," he added with a shrug and a
weary smile, meeting her eyes for a moment.

It was common knowledge that Pirkin's stepmother hated Mrillis, as the symbol for all
things magical. She had blamed the enchanter when King Pyris had died, though she had refused
to send for Mrillis to try to heal his former son-by-law. Her family was proud of their pure
Noveni blood, viciously anti-Rey'kil, and they had never forgiven Pirkin for accepting his
imbrose
and the fact that he was related to Mrillis. Meghianna imagined Lynzette did
everything she could to keep Mrillis away from her grandchildren.

"I wish I could have hosted you all at Goarlotte, openly," Pirkin said, interrupting
Meghianna's somber thoughts. "Too dangerous, and she would have made everyone
miserable."

"Even with the Warhawk's heir as her guest?" she murmured. That earned a snort and a
crooked grin from Pirkin. "I felt Mrillis weaving some tight magical knots when he was riding
with you earlier. More guarding magic for the castle?"

"Warning spells and bracelets we're all to wear, to help us find each other if the castle is
attacked and we're separated." He held up his hand, displaying the thin chain of star-metal he
wore. With her sight turned sideways, Meghianna saw a thick, intricate braiding of Threads
through the links of the chain. She was awed, but not at all surprised, at the amount of time and
energy Mrillis expended on keeping Pirkin and his family safe.