The Rift War (12 page)

"She will be so beautiful in these," Eleanora whispered, as if the jewels could hear her.
"I had a dream, before Ectrix rode home. I saw a grown woman, wearing armor, ride from the
mouth of the tunnel."

"A blue dream?" He held his breath until his sister nodded. "A warrior comes to us.
Does it mean we head for war?"

"Who can know? Mrillis rides with her, and two men. I know the faces of the Rey'kil
who went with Lord Mrillis to help raise her in Moerta, and I do not know their faces."

"Men from the future world?" Baedrix shuddered. "Do they come as allies, servants,
prisoners? Or does she flee danger?"

"We won't know until we meet her." His sister gestured at the door of the tent that she
occupied alone now, and would share with the heir when she arrived. "Dawn is here. Instead of
spending the day in games and sharpening weapons, it might be wise to establish patrols, just in
case Edrout has caught wind of the arrival and tries to attack." She gently closed the lid of the
casket, cutting off the shine of the jewels.

* * * *

Emrillian tugged on the edge of her hood, bringing it up around her face as daylight
finally reached her from the tunnel mouth. Every step her horse took echoed louder than the last,
until she feared the rock would crumble around her. She didn't know if she feared being blocked
inside the tunnel or blocked from staying inside.

It comforted her to be dressed in her traveling armor and have her sword at her hip, her
quiver slung from the saddle hook, and her bow over her shoulder, ready to be pulled out and
strung. There was no telling who would be waiting at the Tower of Bo'Lantier when they
emerged. Tradition had a Valor on duty at all times, to keep watch. But if Edrout had been strong
enough to attack the enchantment that let her sleep through the ages, then he could have the
strength to attack and take the tower. Her blood enemy could be waiting for her to appear.

On the positive side, Edrout could not be anticipating the presence of the seer, Graddon,
in their party.

The battle for the safety of Lygroes and the throne of Quenlaque could be at hand, just a
few minutes from now. Was it possible that it could be settled that easily?

Emrillian shook her head. No, she knew she would first have to travel to the Stronghold,
awaken Meghianna, and take Braenlicach into her hands, before she could face Edrout and rally
the Valors of Quenlaque.

Mrillis rode several lengths ahead of her, with Graddon behind him. Grego rode behind
her. They all three stopped their horses when Mrillis vanished into the bright haze of sunlight at
the end of the tunnel. Silence met him. Graddon looked over his shoulder at her. He nodded, a
solemn expression suddenly vanishing in a wink. Then he nudged his mount and followed
Mrillis into the light.

Emrillian nearly shrieked when Grego moved up to her side and touched her hand. He
gave her a lopsided, apologetic grin. She nodded to him and listened to the sound of the wind
among trees and faint male voices conversing now outside the tunnel.

"Come," Mrillis said, his voice strong and clear.

She sat up straight and nudged her horse forward. She glanced at Grego and they rode
forward together. The blue light covering the opening of the tunnel prickled against her skin,
giving off a few sparks as she emerged into daylight. Blinking in the brightness, Emrillian held
herself still and straight. She looked out over the handful of tents set up around the tower, the
picketed horses, the two or three dozen people all in traveling leathers and armor. She met no
eyes, but gazed off to the mountains in the distance. From the angle of the sunlight, the deep
colors and shadows, sunset faded into evening.

* * * *

Baedrix caught his breath as the young man and the girl emerged into the daylight. A
thousand impressions rushed over him as he tried to assess Athrar's heir in a few grains of time.
Little could be told from a straight back, a stern face and a body covered by a cloak, yet he liked
what he saw of the girl. There was strength in that face that spoke of long years of study. She
looked tanned from outdoor living. That spoke of an active life. She sat her horse well, the
animal quiet despite the shimmer of magic in the air from the curtain across the tunnel mouth,
and the sudden outburst of barking from the sentinel dogs. That spoke of some understanding of
discipline and control.

Yes, Baedrix decided, this girl--no, not a girl, but a young woman--would make a good
heir to the throne. She would be his queen. There was strength in her, visible in the way she sat
her horse and faced the strangers who stared at her. A vibrancy, an eagerness to experience life,
which his wife had never shown. She would make a strong queen.

"My Lord Mrillis," Baedrix called out, stepping forward. He swept a bow to the
enchanter, and then bowed to the heir and their two companions--just as Eleanora had seen in her
dream. "Welcome home to Quenlaque. I am Baedrix, son of Ectrix, son of Garath, son of Garad,
son of Lycen, first Regent and foster-brother to Athrar Warhawk." He stopped twenty paces from
where the four sat their horses, with a decent space of clear grass all around them.

"In the name of Athrar and his heir, I thank you, Regent Baedrix," Mrillis responded, his
voice resonant with triumph. "Behold Athrar's heir." He stood in his stirrups and beckoned.
"Behold Emrillian Warhawk, true-born daughter of Athrar Warhawk and Ynfara, princess of
Goarlotte. Possessor of Rey'kil magic. Destroyer of rixils and drakags. Bearer of the ring of the
Warhawk. Your queen," Mrillis finished, his voice ringing out in echoes across the vale. Nothing
moved except by the touch of the wind. Even the birds in the trees nearby seemed silenced by the
announcement.

She is lovely.
It hurt Baedrix to think it.
What must it have been like, raised
by Mrillis? She is too young for this.
He wondered if Emrillian knew how to smile.

Mrillis dismounted and stepped over to Emrillian's horse, holding up his hand to help
her down. She moved slowly. Despite her voluminous cloak, Baedrix saw a faint trembling in
her limbs. Her calm quiet covered what was likely nerves. He wished he knew her, so he could
offer her his hand and comfort. It was good he had only brought a handful of nobles and Valors
to meet her, apprise her of the situation in Lygroes, and escort her home to Quenlaque. A crowd
of courtiers would be overwhelming.

* * * *

The man who approached was a Valor, indicated by the sword at his side, dressed in
black and silver, a thin silver band with a stylized Warhawk on it circling his brow. This was the
Regent, Baedrix, great-grandson of her adored Garad. He only bore a slight resemblance to
Garad, and Emrillian was disappointed, even as she realized that had been a foolish hope.

She wondered if he wore black for some personal reason, or because it made him look
so grave and wise. There was a trace of sadness on his face. A few thin lines of silver marred the
dark waves of his hair, but no frost touched his thin beard, framing cheeks and chin. He was a
good head taller than her, wide in the shoulders, moving like a trained dancer. She felt the impact
of his physical presence from ten paces away and hoped Mrillis was not scanning her thoughts
and reactions. Emrillian didn't want her reception spoiled by a schoolgirl crush. He was just like
her favorite heroes in the romances she had read, in defiance of Mrillis' dislike of such
books.

"Highness." Baedrix went down on one knee.

"Please, stand." She tried to smile, felt her cheeks move stiffly. "How can I speak with
you if I cannot see your face?" Emrillian felt encouraged when she saw flickers of smiles on
some faces close to her. He stood and she saw a sparkle of something in his eyes.

He beckoned. A young woman and a boy stepped from the crowd and came up to join
them. They both had the same dark, wavy hair, the same brightly inquisitive eyes. "This is my
sister, Lady Eleanora, and my brother, Ectrix. They are at your service until you find assistants
more to your choosing."

"I thank you most gratefully," she responded, meeting first Eleanora's eyes and then
Ectrix's. She liked what she saw in them.

Magic tingled in her fingertips. Emrillian almost gasped as she felt instinctive magic
stirring. It didn't have the familiar touch of Mrillis' mind. Something else moved in the mental
atmosphere and her own magic awakened in response.

With a gentle touch of magic against the minds around her, she discerned that Eleanora
had
imbrose
. Fighting what she knew would be an idiotic, delighted smile, she nodded
to them and turned back to their older brother. Emrillian kept herself from touching his mind,
warned by the hint of sadness in him, and the feeling that she might drown in his eyes if she
looked into them too long.

"Please, Lord Baedrix," she went on, "teach me how to serve my father's kingdom. I
would have no disruption of the prosperity you and your predecessors guarded so well." She had
to fight not to cast a triumphant glimpse to Mrillis. Making pretty speeches was not so hard, she
decided.

"Gladly, Highness." Baedrix bowed. He looked relieved, as if her words had helped her
pass some test.

* * * *

"Will there be anything else, Highness?" Eleanora asked, as Ectrix carried away the
basin of used wash water.

Emrillian thought the boy would be irked at having to play servant, but she realized in
just the short time it took to meet the welcoming party and be shown to her pavilion that he was
thrilled. A new system had been instituted for training Valors, because of the reduced magic in
Lygroes. Boys handled the dozens of menial chores necessary in a great house and during a
campaign, learning their duties from the ground up. Ectrix visibly considered it a matter of pride
to do the smallest, dirtiest chore for the Warhawk's heir. Even if it was something she would
have preferred to handle for herself, such as fetching her own wash water.

"Just one." Emrillian waited until the curtain door of her pavilion stopped swinging.
"Lady Eleanora, your ancestor was my father's brother. Could we be friends?"

"You honor me." The other girl curtsied, bowing her head. She raised it a heartbeat later,
eyes sparkling with mischief. Emrillian laughed, knowing they were kindred spirits despite the
differences in culture.

"And we will call each other by name, no titles, no ceremony and fuss--at least in
private. Please?" she added, startled to realize she had fallen into the habit of ordering too easily.
Mrillis had raised her to ask for what she wanted, not to demand or expect anything as her
due.

"Gladly. Emrillian." Eleanora's laughter was like tiny bells chiming up and down the
scale. She settled down on the long, cushioned bench next to Emrillian. "Truly, I am honored
that you would trust me so readily."

"Grandfather told me of you and your brothers, and I have some sense of people. You
have a bright, open spirit." Emrillian marveled at the ease she felt talking to her new friend. A
sigh broke from her, half laughter. "You have an enormous burden, being my friend, helping me
to understand the Court."

"And making sure you are not overwhelmed, and protecting you from those who believe
a woman should be ornamental and nothing more. The ones who won't want you to learn
anything. There is so much to learn!"

"Let me guess... You are eager to join the others and learn more about Grego and
Graddon." Eleanora's blush fascinated her. "Which interests you more? The seer who has slept
for centuries, or the man from another world and time?"

"The seer is part of our history. It is strange, but I think I am more awed by Lord
Grego--that is his proper title?"

"He hasn't earned his spurs yet in this world, but yes, among the Archaics, he has proven
himself a champion several times. I value him as a teacher and adviser." Emrillian sighed,
feeling her spirits plummet. "These next few moons will be very hard, defending our world from
attacks on all sides. Navigating the Court actually frightens me more."

"Baedrix will help you." Eleanora clasped her hand. "My brother is one who will never
lie to you, never break an oath, always give his most for the crown. Depend on him." She
hesitated a moment, licking her lips. "My-- Emrillian, my brother asked me to broach a subject
with you, of utmost importance and yet..." A faint blush tinged her cheeks. She looked
away.

"Of great delicacy?" She could guess what her new friend was about to say. Mrillis had
warned her of certain problems she would have because she was royal and unmarried. "As in
finding a suitable husband?"

"How did-- Did you touch my mind?"

"Not magic. Psychology." She shrugged an apology when her friend's expression
showed confusion. "Psychology means a study of the way people's minds work. It lets you
predict how they will react. Grandfather warned me that some people will never truly accept me
as queen until I have a strong, capable husband at my side." She shook her head. "That is
something I must change soon. The notion that a woman cannot do anything without a man to
help her."

"But Highness-- Emrillian." Eleanora leaned closer, voice soft, a sparkle in her eyes.
"We only permit men to
think
we need their help. It is truly they who need ours."

Emrillian stared, her mouth slowly dropping open. In moments, they were both
laughing, and were still laughing when Ectrix and the other three Valors-in-training came in to
set up the trestle table for dinner. Emrillian knew her burden had decreased, now that she had a
friend.

* * * *

Grego sighed as he wandered from the tent he would share with the Regent and Lord
Carious. Everyone had something to do in the small camp, except him. Baedrix, Mrillis and
Graddon had retired to the tower to speak behind closed doors. The other Valors were busy
strengthening the protective shield around the Vale of Bo'Lantier. The only woman in the small
company, Eleanora, was busy with Emrillian. The teenage boys, who seemed to be responsible
for every chore, dashed about like birds building a nest in a hurricane.