Storm Rising (29 page)

That was on the end of a long list of other priorities, however. And given what they were all going through because of the mage-storms, Karal doubted that any of the Allies would ever be willing to rely entirely—or even regularly—on permanent Gates for transportation. Physical transportation was far more reliable, and less likely to be affected by anything short of utter catastrophe.

Karal knew why it had only taken two days to come to this agreement. The Valdemarans (although they would never admit this) were willing to trust to the Companions as an informal front line and expected Florian to warn them if anything or anyone besides Solaris herself came through the Gate. And, no doubt, the Valdemarans knew he knew, and he knew they knew he knew, and so they were all very comfortable together, for that which could not be admitted could still be tacitly acknowledged.

It took another two days to make the necessary arrangements, and somehow it was all accomplished without anyone but the Council members and those who were immediately involved finding out. That in itself was a minor miracle.

At least, it had been accomplished without anyone likely to make a public nuisance of himself finding out. Without a doubt, people with other agendas than public ones had learned of her arrival. That was why, if the Valdemarans had not insisted on the Gate being in Companion’s Field, Solaris would have insisted on it being either there or in the heart of the Palace. The Companions would work equally well to guard Solaris as to guard against her.

The weather even cooperated; it was clear and sunny, though very cold, as Karal waited beside the tumbled stones of the old Temple. There had been a thick, hard frost last night; where the stones were still in shadow, they were covered with a heavy coating of white. The ruin stood in the heart of a thickly wooded grove;
the
Grove, the Valdemarans called it, and for all that it stood in the center of Haven, in the middle of the Palace grounds, there was an air of great age and mystery about it. The ruined stones were piled around the foot of a bell-tower still in relatively good repair; the only other place where there were still two stones on top of each other was the stone arch.

:Well, here we are,:
Florian said as his breath puffed out into the still morning air.:
Everything is as ready as it is ever likely to be.:

“Except me,” Karal replied. He was dressed in every bit of Sun-priest regalia he or Ulrich had ever owned, and it felt as if he now labored under twice his normal weight. He couldn’t imagine how any of the high-ranking Sun-priests managed to wear these things day after day.

“Why did you volunteer for this anyway?” he continued, as Altra daintily picked his way through the stones and examined the ground to find a place fit for his regal rump.

:It occurred to me,:
the Companion said, with grim
humor,:
that anyone from Valdemar who might consider putting an arrow through Solaris would think twice about doing so with a Companion in the way. And I intend to be in the way at all times.:

“Ah.” Karal inserted a finger in his collar and pulled on it to ease it a bit. “Well, that’s certainly logical. I can’t imagine anyone in Valdemar having the temerity to shoot anywhere near one of you lot.”

:Thank you.:
Florian had been groomed to within an inch of his life this morning, and although he was not wearing a saddle, he did have the full formal barding and belled halter that Companions normally wore for special occasions. His mane and tail were braided in multiple strands with blue and silver ribbons, and each braid ended in a silver bell.
May I say that I hope your rigout is not as uncomfortable as mine?:

“Oh, it is; probably more so.” Karal smiled. “If it was any heavier or stiffer, I wouldn’t be able to walk.”

:And they say that rank is not a burden!:
Florian tossed his braided mane to the wild chiming of tiny bells, and whickered his amusement.
:I could wish I was a Firecat; at least they don’t have to put up with being beaded and braided.:

The Firecat looked back over his shoulder.
:No, but when I am done, you will be glad you only need to bear beads and bells. Building a Gate is not like Jumping—well, you’ll see. This is, in my opinion, a small price to pay for the great good that will come out of it:

With that, Altra examined the ground further, and something occurred to Karal. Altra was going to expend a great deal of energy—and concentration. He wasn’t going to be able to concentrate if he was shivering. He needed to be off the cold ground, but none of them had thought to bring anything for Altra to sit on.

Wait a moment—Florian was not wearing a saddle, but he was carrying an ornamental blanket.

As he turned to ask Florian if he could borrow the blanket, Florian reached around and pulled the silver-embroidered blue blanket from his back with his teeth, clearly with the same idea in mind.

:Here. There’s something appropriate about Altra sitting on a Valdemaran blanket to bring Solaris here from Karse, isn’t there?:

Altra pivoted to face them again as Karal took the blanket from Florian. His blue eyes went from Karal to Florian and back again.:
Thank you,:
he said simply.
:This is why the Alliance will work.:

:At least it is why we three make a good team, pulling as one in the same harness,:
Florian said with amusement.

Altra snorted, indicating a place for Karal to lay the blanket with a tap of his paw. :
Trust a horse to say we work in harness. I would have said we were running the same prey.:

:So you would,:
Florian replied agreeably, watching Altra settle himself on the blanket.:
And you may have my share of the mice we take.:

:And you, my share of the corn they were eating. Gentlemen, are we prepared? Hansa is ready on his side.:

It was a rhetorical question, and they all knew it. Karal gave his tunic a last tug, while Florian positioned himself very carefully beside him. They both turned their attention to the stone arch.

Every muscle on Altra’s body was tense; not even his tail twitched. The stones of the arch began to glow, faintly at first, but the brightness increased with every passing heartbeat. Then, between one moment and the next, there was blackness inside the arch instead of the view of the stones and weeds on the other side.

A few tendrils of energy licked across the blackness; slowed lightning was all Karal could think of. Every hair on Altra’s body stood on end, puffing him up to twice his normal size. More tendrils appeared, and still more—

Then, just as suddenly as the blackness had appeared, it vanished. But the view through the archway was not that of the ruins; it was of a wall of books and a wooden floor—and Solaris, with Hansa sitting beside her, the precise mirror-image of Altra.

The scene held for only a single moment, not even
as long as it took to cough. Solaris wasted no time at all in acting, stepping through the stone archway with all the casual aplomb of one walking from one room to the other—

Except, of course, that she was stepping across a distance so vast it had taken Karal weeks to cross it. And that she, too, was in her full formal robes as the Son of the Sun, the Voice of Vkandis, the ruler of all Karse.

She glittered with gold; her robes were sewn with plates of it rather than simply being embroidered with gold bullion and braid. Her jewels of office were twice the size of Kami’s. She was as covered with gold and sun-gems as the statue of Vkandis Himself. Karal wondered how she could move.

But move she did, from Karse to Valdemar and away from the Gate quickly, so that Altra and Hansa could break the connection and close it down. The instant she was clear, that was precisely what they did; the Gate went black, then vanished completely, leaving only the view of the ruins in the picturesque archway.

Altra sagged, and Solaris bent quickly to support him for a moment until he regained his strength. “Thank you, Altra,” Karal heard her say very quietly. “That was well and smoothly done.”

If Altra made any answer, he made it only to her, for Karal “heard” nothing. When the Firecat seemed better, Solaris straightened and turned her attention to those waiting to welcome her.

Karal quailed beneath that direct gaze, as hard to meet as the full glare of the sun at noonday on the Summer Solstice. He shivered and tried to drop his eyes, entirely overwhelmed and not just by the fact that he was in the presence of his ruler. He now had what he had
never
wanted, the full and undivided attention of the Son of the Sun. But more than that, he stood before Solaris with a heavy knowledge in his heart that he had failed her; he had broken his promise to her by failing to keep Ulrich safe.

He trembled, and her gaze softened; for a moment he saw the woman beneath the High Priest. Her mask
dropped altogether at that moment, she took several swift steps forward, and before he could bow to her, she caught his shoulders in her hands, then embraced him.

“I need not be the Sun’s Son just yet,” she whispered into his ear as he forgot to breathe. “And Karal—I know. I know what you feel. You did the best you could, and if you can be said to have failed at all, it is because I gave you tasks suited for a score of seasoned mages and priests, not for one young man alone. The trouble is, I did not have those seasoned mages and priests to send here. I had only you, and hope, and you have repaid that hope by accomplishing more than anyone had a right to expect.”

He felt caught in the silence and could not reply.

“Twice now, I have unthinkingly given you a task too great for you, and I am sorry. Can you forgive me?” She released him so that he could look into her anxious eyes. He nodded dumbly, and her eyes brightened with a suspicion of tears. “Oh, Karal,” she breathed, “I miss him too!”

That was too much for him; with a spasm of heart and throat, he lost all of his control and broke down, weeping. But she was doing the same, and the two of them wept together in silence.

She regained control of herself first, though she did not push him away. Instead, she held him while he wept himself out, while the pain of loss ebbed, and released him only when
he
made a tentative move to free himself.

“Here,” she said, handing him a handkerchief which she produced out of the capacious sleeves of her robes. “I had the feeling this would happen, and I came prepared.” She managed a wan smile, for a moment more, no longer the Son of the Sun, but just a harried and weary woman. “The one thing these robes are good for is being prepared. I could hide a donkey, a week’s provisions, and a small tent in these sleeves.”

That made him laugh, as she must have known it would. He composed himself as she carefully removed the last damage from her tears and resumed her dignity.
Karal blotted his own face, glad that the cold air would quickly restore him and that the redness of his eyes would be attributed to staring into the bright sun for too long. When he was ready, he nodded to her, and with Florian at her left and himself at her right, and a much-subdued and slightly shaky Altra bringing up the rear, they moved out of the Grove and toward the waiting delegation.

Selenay waited there, clearly visible among the rest in her white and gold, as impressive in her simplicity as Solaris was in her ornate robes. Beside her stood her Companion, as beaded and belled as Florian, but wearing full formal tack, including a saddle; behind her stood Talia and Prince Daren and their Companions, likewise bedecked, and the rest of the welcoming delegation behind them. Those who were not Heralds had dressed in sun colors as a tribute to Solaris; they made a bright and welcoming patch of warm color against the dead, gray-brown grass and barren branches.

It was an interesting moment; the first face-to-face meeting of two strong-willed, strong-minded women, both the rulers in their own lands, and each of them once the greatest enemy of the other. Karal felt the pressure of their gazes as Solaris approached with that graceful, gliding step he could never emulate. Neither of them had an iota of attention for anyone else.

Finally Solaris stopped, no more than a pace or two from her counterpart, both of them eyeing each other for a breathless moment of assessment.

Breathless, indeed; once again, Karal forgot to breathe. Would they hate each other? When they were so far distant from one another, personal feelings had meant nothing, but now that they were within touching distance, it was imperative that they at least be able to tolerate each other! What if they were instant enemies?

His heart pounded painfully in his ears as he waited for one or the other of them to speak—or
something!

Finally, though, it was Selenay who broke the impasse, and she did it with a smile.

“Talia told me that we were much alike, Holiness,”
she said, as Solaris answered that smile with a wary one of her own. “I suspect that she was being tactful.”

“Very tactful, Majesty,” Solaris replied, in that peculiar, carrying voice that never seemed to rise above conversational level, yet could reach clearly to the back of the Temple, “But I would expect that level of tact, knowing Our Priestess.”

Cleverly phrased; Karel marveled at how clever—in the same breath, by saying “I” first, she had given Selenay notice that they were equals and she was claiming no special precedence for herself, even as Selenay had not. But by referring to Talia as “Our” Priestess, she reminded Selenay that unlike the Valdemaran ruler, Solaris spoke with more voices than her own. Talia was a Priestess to Vkandis as well as Solaris, and where Solaris was, so, too, was her God.

“I suspect,” Solaris continued, reinforcing that status of equals with another T, “that what she truly meant and would not say is that we are
too
much alike.”

She raised a long, thin, elegant eyebrow at Talia, for the first time taking her attention from the Valdemaran Queen. Talia had donned Karsite Sun-priest robes—but they were in white and silver, rather than black and gold, in token of her dual duties as Priest and Herald. Another nicely balanced gesture.