The Merchant Emperor (44 page)

“Assuming you are going to agree to this, Grunthor has made preparations for you to leave day after tomorrow in the morning. You cannot risk notifying Ashe by any other means than the Lightcatcher; even the birds are of questionable security. I will expect you to return when you can, to help guard the Earthchild and lend a hand to keeping the mountain safe, but not until we find the last assassin who escaped.

“Rest now. Don’t move until you are sure you can do so safely. That will most likely not happen until at least tomorrow afternoon.”

Rhapsody opened her eyes, their irises the same deep green as the light from the grass-scrying spectrum had been.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

40

GURGUS PEAK, YLORC

The azure hue of late evening that filled the vast room below Gurgus Peak was blotted with shadow. As the light above fled the darkening sky, pools of radiance dotted the stone floor intermittently, disappearing as the sun vanished below the horizon.

Rhapsody stood at the base of the Lightcatcher, her hand on the altar, feeling the sound of her own breath echoing in the enormous chamber. Meridion scowled, asleep in the crook of her left arm, his tiny brows drawn together, his face blue in the shadows from the sky raining down through the ceiling dome of glass.

She kissed the furrow on the baby’s forehead, letting her lips linger there, breathing in the sweetness of his skin. Then she straightened her back, ran her hand over the runes in the altar, bringing her palm at last above
Brige-sol
, the symbol known as Cloud Caller, or Cloud Chaser, in the blue section of the spectrum embedded in the table board of the altar. She softly sang her Naming note.

Light appeared beneath her palm, as Constantin had promised it would.

Rhapsody exhaled. She cast a glance across the tower room to the wheel on its track, still and quiet in the darkness. Then she touched the emblem for sharp, the positive symbol from the Patriarch’s ring, and sang the name of the home that had been built for her but that she had never inhabited,
Highmeadow
, followed by the specifics of the location of Ashe’s office.

A cylinder of blue light appeared around her, encircling the altar. At the edge of the circle, above the silver disk in the floor, she could see the desk, the rug on the floor, the map table, but there was no sign of her husband.

Rhapsody’s throat tightened. Ashe had always been in the study on the previous occasions she had contacted him through the Lightcatcher; she was uncertain how to find him now. She quickly sang his name, hoping she would not lose the opportunity before the light winked out, having misguessed where he would be.

Gwydion ap Llauron ap Gwylliam, tuatha d’Anwynan o Manosse
.

The image faded, then, a moment later, a new one took its place.

In a slightly brighter evening shadow at the western end of the continent, beneath an open sky, Rhapsody caught sight of red-gold hair, gleaming in the remains of the day’s light as the sun slipped below the rim of the world through the trees of the forest surrounding the palace fortress of Highmeadow.

Ashe was standing on the balcony of the central building of the complex, staring east, the fading light behind him ringing him in luminance. His beard was gone, and at first she almost didn’t recognize his face; there was a sharpness to his features that she could see even in the hazy light of the instrumentality. He no longer appeared unkempt, but there was something different she could not quite place; it was as if she was staring at a stranger in the clothes of her husband.

She swallowed the knot that had tied itself in her throat.

“Good evening, my love,” she said. Her voice caught in the tightness of her larynx and came out in a hoarse whisper.

Ashe started, then glanced around until his eyes found what must have been a very diffuse image of her, hovering outside the railing of the balcony. He smiled slightly.

Good evening to you, too, my love. Hello, Meridion,
pippin.

“How was your day?” The words sounded inane even to her own ears.

Ashe’s smile faded.
I have done as you asked, Aria. I have passed along my Right of Command to Gwydion, at least that part of it entrusted with holding the continent for the Alliance
.

Rhapsody’s eyes gleamed. “Are you all right? How do you feel?”

Her husband appeared as if he were considering her question.

Lighter. And yet still worried as I prepare to leave. There have been some very awful days this week, but I will spare you the details for the sake of time. How are you both?

“We are well,” Rhapsody said. Inside she flinched.
How much more well can one be, after surviving one’s own assassination attempt?
she thought, then turned the still-sleeping Meridion toward Ashe and held him as close to the undulating image of her husband as she could. “Can you see him?”

The Lord Cymrian’s smile returned, and for the moment Rhapsody saw her husband again.

Yes. He’s beautiful, Aria. Why is he scowling?

Rhapsody sighed.

“He does that sometimes in his sleep,” she said. “But he may also be sulking; we had a bit of an argument this evening.”

Oh? Over what?

“I have been trying to wean him a little, to get him to take milk from a special waterskin. To say he doesn’t like it much would be a tremendous understatement.”

Who could blame him?
Ashe said humorously.
That’s my boy.
The smile left his eyes.
Why did you decide to wean him, Aria? Is his growing demand exhausting you?

Rhapsody swallowed again.

“No,” she said as directly as she could. “I am taking him to the Nain.”

Ashe blinked in surprise; Rhapsody could see the dragonesque pupils, now more prominent than she remembered, reappear after his eyes opened again.

To the Nain? Why?

She steeled herself, then plunged ahead.

“To be hidden there. It’s no longer safe for him here in Ylorc. Talquist is in pursuit of him through many terrible means, Sam. For all it may seem that his primary intent is to take the Middle Continent, believe me when I tell you that his real targets are in the Bolglands. I am leaving tomorrow, with Gyllian, Krinsel, Analise, and Melly. We will be traveling by night, and mostly within the mountains, so we will be as safe as it is possible for us to be. I am going to beg a boon of Faedryth: his protection of Meridion. I believe, in spite of our disagreements over the Lightcatcher, he will not deny me his fealty. Between the army of the Nain, the River of Fire and Witheragh, the dragon who guards it, as well as the defenses of that distant kingdom, there is no place where our son will be better hidden. I am telling you because if something should happen to me, you need to know where he is, that he is safe, at least as safe as I now can make him.”

The steadiness in Ashe’s eyes disappeared, replaced by a similar gleam to Rhapsody’s own.

The gleam of near-madness.

What terrible means?
he demanded, the multitonal ring of the dragon in his voice.
What has happened, Aria?

“Nothing that Achmed has not been able to rebuff, but I don’t want to take any chances with the baby,” she said quickly. “And please, be on guard against potential assassins—apparently Talquist has signed contracts with every guild imaginable, and every major Cymrian leader or figure is targeted. Gwydion is at risk, as is Tristan—please, please be careful, Sam.”

Let them find me in the sea
, the Lord Cymrian spat, smoke seeming to emerge from his blazing eyes.
Let them come after me, wherever I am. Have they made an attempt against you?

“Yes,” she admitted, “but as you can see, it was unsuccessful.”

And is this why you are weaning our child? Because you believe the next one will be successful?

Rhapsody willed herself to be calm at the panic and ire that rose in her husband’s voice.

“Of course not,” she said, struggling to keep her own voice steady. “He needs to be able to take nourishment from someone other than me when I leave him.”

Leave him?
Ashe demanded.
What do mean, leave him? You are not planning to stay with him in the kingdom of the Nain?

Rhapsody shook her head, trying not to meet his eyes.

Look at me,
the Lord Cymrian commanded.
What
are
you planning, then, Aria?

“I am the Iliachenva’ar,” she said quietly, raising her eyes and meeting his glare. “I am needed in battle, especially once you have gone after reinforcements in Gaematria and Manosse, and especially in Tyrian.” She saw the cords stand out in his neck, a sign of utter fury, an indication that the dragon within his blood was rising, readying a rampage.

And it angered her.

“Gwydion ap Llauron,
stop,
” she commanded in return, in the ringing tones of her Namer status. “Quell your rage; there isn’t time for it.”

Ashe blinked again, this time in shock. The tone of her voice was as regal and excoriating as he had ever heard it. The dragon slunk away at the sound of it, cooling his wrath for the moment.

“Before you question my decision, please try to imagine what it has and will cost me,” Rhapsody continued tersely. “After all the ways I have fought for this child, from convincing you of the wisdom of having him in the first place, to surviving what I have to protect him, do you think for a bloody
moment
that I would leave my baby for any reason if there was any other choice?”

I do not doubt—

“Be silent and listen. One blessing so far is that it seems Talquist does not know the baby’s name; he only seeks him, as far as we know, as the Child of Time. But he
does
know who his parents are; have you had to interdict any Sorbold cohorts at Haguefort or Highmeadow?”

Even as filmy as the image of Ashe was, Rhapsody could see his face go pale in the light.

Yes. At the beginning, right after you left for Ylorc. It was the beginning of the actual war.

Rhapsody nodded slightly. “At the moment, hiding as I have been, I am more of a danger to him than a suitable protector of him. If it’s not enough that Talquist apparently has scrying relics of his own, he is allied with the Diviner, and is in league with the titan, who is the host of a F’dor that is seeking to find the Sleeping Child. On top of coping with his assassins, your accursed
grandmother
is out there somewhere, injured and furious, looking to destroy me. She has already broached the mountain once, Ashe—she torched Elysian, reducing it to rubble. Can you imagine what would happen to Meridion if and when she finds me? If he is in my arms? If I am nursing him?”

Her tirade ground to a halt as Ashe began to tremble.

Pain and guilt swam through her, leaving her cold and shaking herself. Her heart stung at the horror she knew her words had caused her husband, and she took a deep breath, willing herself calm again.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry, Ashe. I did not mean to frighten you.”

Too late
.

In her arms, the baby began to squirm.

“Please, please don’t be afraid,” she said, cradling the child and trying to impart comfort to her husband through her words and her eyes. “I have pondered the situation endlessly, have in fact used the Lightcatcher to confirm my belief. Constantin has imbued it with some of the lore of the Ring of Wisdom; I know of no better resource to consult. It was folly to believe that each of the elemental swords is not needed to be in the fray; the best way for me to protect my son—our son—is to do everything that I can to help you end this conflict. Anborn tried to keep me out of the war as long as he could, but now that he is engaged in battle, and you are leaving, I must help your namesake prosecute the war for the Alliance until you get back. But not until the baby is safely hidden away. He will have Krinsel and Analise with him, as well as Gyllian, who will support my plea to Faedryth. And Melisande will be safer as well.”

Ashe nodded, subdued.
Well, that will help ease Gwydion’s mind, I am certain
.

Rhapsody exhaled again. When she spoke, her voice was gentle.

“Hopefully it will ease the mind of both my Gwydions. Just as you are leaving some of your Right of Command with Gwydion Navarne, so I am planning to leave much of myself—the soul I share with you—with our son. If he is to remember me, remember us, remember the love of which he was born, I will need to give him everything,
everything
, Sam. Just as you are leaving the lordship with Gwydion, I will need to leave my true name with Meridion; I won’t remember ‘Emily’ anymore. The only thing left of me when he is gone will be Rhapsody, the Namer, the Iliachenva’ar. And just as you said you did not know if you could take back that Right of Command, I do not know if I will be able to get back the part of me that I am leaving behind. I may be unrecognizable, just as you are when the dragon takes control of you. But it’s the only thing I can do now.” Against her will, tears spilled from her eyes and streaked her cheeks. “I am sorry. I’m sorry that I have failed you.”