The Rift War (14 page)

"Since the attack on the Threads blocking the tunnel?" Graddon said. "Since Edrout tried
to kill Emrillian?"

Baedrix frowned, his gaze unfocused. He rubbed at his chin. Emrillian had already
decided that was a sign of deep thought. She admired him for the simple wisdom of stopping to
think before answering, so he had the right answer.

"I believe so, my lord."

"Then Edrout was frightened, when he failed in killing me," Emrillian said. She clasped
her hands together in the folds of her overtunic in her lap, to keep them from shaking. "It could
be he has been looking for me, here in Lygroes, all this time. Or he has been preparing for the
final battle, because he knows he erred badly when he awoke me from the enchantment."

"Let us hope he never learns how badly, until it is too late for him to mend it," Graddon
murmured. He nodded, staring at the map. Then he cocked his head to one side, met Emrillian's
gaze, and winked. "Do the Encindi have boats?"

"They can't navigate around the Wayhauk Mountains where they extend into the sea. It
takes them too close to the dome, and it burns anyone who tries to penetrate it," Carious said.
"Our spies say their ships are made for fishing close to shore, and are too small to hold more than
a few warriors."

"Then that will give us an advantage," Mrillis said. "When we bring down the dome, we
must have ships full of warriors ready to move down both coasts, land, and come up behind the
Encindi before they realize what has happened, while they are still trying to penetrate the barrier
of the mountains."

The talk changed to the ocean currents, the types of boats in use, the strength of the
royal fleet. Emrillian had little experience with ships of any kind, despite growing up on the
coast, but Mrillis had trained her to understand the necessity of protection on the water and
coastlines. There was so much to plan for, so much she had to acquaint herself with, before she
could feel even middling competent in her duty. She wondered that Mrillis had ever pronounced
her ready to rule.

As she listened to discussions of sea strength, sailors at the ready, schedules of sailing
tours and inspections, she caught herself rubbing the Warhawk ring on her finger. It comforted
her, reminding her of that short moment of reunion with her mother, the sight of her father with
healthy color on his face.

From the naval strength of Quenlaque, talk changed to the Death Zone. Baedrix and his
people understood the magical barrier from living inside it. No ship of Quenlaque could pass out
through the barrier. Those who deliberately attempted to pass through were burned, as Carious
had said. Those who were pushed against the barrier by storms, or lost control of their boats in
the unnatural currents, passed through a wall of fog instead of lightning and fire. Passing through
that fog, they found their ships headed back toward Lygroes, though navigators and pilots swore
they never turned by a degree. The only way to enter and exit Lygroes was through the tunnel
under the sea, until the enchantment lifted. Those who surveyed the Death Zone with technology
saw only poisoned land and sampled poisoned air, corrosive gases, and wastes of sand.

"One thing about modern people should help your battle," Grego said, grinning. "They
trust machines more than common sense. If you can bollux their sensors and computers, you'll
never lose a battle."

"Computers? Sensors?" Eleanora laughed. "There is a whole new language we must
learn."

"Indeed. Will Lord Grego teach us this language as well as all the history we have
missed?" Baedrix asked.

"That would help." Emrillian sat back in her chair, wincing as she felt the ache in her
back. "Grego, I think you should start your lessons immediately. Don't wait for our friends to
show up. Lord Baedrix and I ride out before dawn to fetch Braenlicach. We will return here,
hopefully by afternoon the next day."

"How can you cross Lygroes and return so quickly, Highness?" Carious shook his head.
"It is many days of hard riding. And how can we be sure that the Stronghold will allow you to
enter it, or that the Queen of Snows will relinquish the sword without a fight?"

"He doesn't know about the tunnel," Baedrix said, before Emrillian could respond.
"There is a tunnel to the Stronghold, like the tunnel beneath the sea, that turns a journey of nearly
a moon into half a day."

"Half a day of walking," she added, and fought not to laugh when everyone in the tent
displayed various expressions of shock, wonder, and disbelief.

"Then why hasn't our enemy found it and used it to attack? And why does no one... Ah,
yes, of course, to protect it." Carious nodded and bowed a little in his chair. "Forgive me,
Highness."

"The tunnel is bound to the same protective enchantments that shield the Stronghold.
Only women of Rey'kil blood may travel it, or men who were born in the Stronghold." She
nodded to Baedrix. "The Regent's family is descended from Lord Lycen, who was Lady
Meghianna's son, and it is tradition for them to all be born there, to ensure the door stays
open."

"Lady Meghianna left her sleep when my parents went there for Ectrix to be born,"
Eleanora said, her voice soft, her gaze dim and unfocused. "I went with them. Baedrix stayed
home--his first duty as regent-in-training. I remember going there and being terrified and
fascinated and thinking how very sad and empty the place was. I remember Lady Meghianna was
so delighted to see all of us, and she was very good to me. I pestered her with a flood of
questions." She blushed prettily. "I think I would like to go back with you."

"Later. When we awaken the entire Stronghold and send women with
imbrose
to study there once again," Emrillian said. "For now, I depend on you to learn from Grego, so
you can teach all the women whom you think would be the most apt pupils."

"Forgive me, Highness." Martus, the tower guardian sat far around the loose circle of
chairs in the pavilion. "I feel uneasy, sending just you and the Regent to the Stronghold, even
with the guarding enchantment. Magic is not tame, like a candle, but a raging fire."

"I was born in the Stronghold, Lord Martus. It was my playground. And the Queen of
Snows is my aunt. She will welcome me, even if she repels all others." Emrillian inclined her
head to him. "I think you for your concern, even so."
Grandfather, do they have reason to
fear? Could Aunt Meggi have changed, after so many years of sleeping and silence?

Trust in her, child. All will be well
, Mrillis responded.

The discussion broke up soon after that, so Emrillian and Baedrix could prepare for their
journey, and the others could prepare for Grego's first day of lessons. Emrillian wished she could
ride with Mrillis and Graddon. They would be heading down the coast with her and Baedrix for a
short while, until they turned west to go to the hidden tunnel entrance. The two enchanters would
continue south to the Wayhauk Mountains, to spy on the enemy. Emrillian tweaked the Threads
to make herself sleep, because she knew she was more likely to lie awake all night, wondering
and worrying and wishing. She needed all her energy.

* * * *

The sun shone bright and warm as it escaped the clutches of the horizon, beating straight
into his eyes. Baedrix debated whether to call a halt to eat a late breakfast. He glanced over his
shoulder. The flat landscape, dotted with shrubs, had not changed much despite hours of riding.
He imagined he could see Quenlaque, a faint smudge on the horizon, though he knew a forest
and a few small hills sat between him and the castle perched above the harbor. Ahead, a shallow
slope led down to the river. A small copse of trees stood close to the water's edge, offering a
promise of shade while they rested and ate. He estimated another half hour at their present pace
to get there. They could wait. Every step on their journey was a step closer to reaching the
Stronghold. The sooner Braenlicach rested at Emrillian's hip, responding to her touch, the more
secure he would feel.

And the sooner he could lay down his duties as Regent.

Strange, how that glorious hope didn't fill him with eagerness as it used to do. It wasn't
that he didn't trust Emrillian to understand her duties. She was more than competent. Mrillis had
trained her, after all, and he had stood beside the Warhawk throne for multiple generations,
through crises that threatened to destroy their world.

Baedrix suspected that it was Emrillian herself who made him reluctant to step down
from his post, and the fascinating world of the future that she represented and would bring to
Lygroes. This was an adventure more thrilling and uncertain than anything he could have
envisioned when he promised his little brother they would go questing together someday.

Carious emerged from the trees and shadows up ahead, and another member of their
party rode ahead to take point. He and four other Valors had been waiting when Baedrix arose
before dawn, and announced that they would be remiss in their duties to allow him and Emrillian
to ride to the tunnel alone after Mrillis and Graddon left them to head for the mountains.

It had been a quiet ride for the first two hours, while Mrillis talked of some of the
changes in Moerta, teaching the Valors and Graddon. Emrillian had taken over the lessons when
the two enchanters parted company with them. For the last hour, she had turned the situation
around, asking questions of all of them, as thirsty for details of life in Quenlaque as they were for
information on the future world.

Right now, Emrillian rode with two Valors on either side of her, discussing the
differences between the tournaments the Archaics held, and the training of the Valors now, and
how it differed from the practices before the dome had been raised. Baedrix enjoyed listening to
Emrillian's thoughtful, sometimes wry, sometimes amusing observations. She impressed him
with the thoroughness of her training and her clear insight, and he discovered somewhere in this
morning's journey that he pitied her, caught between two worlds and times and ways of life.

"What do you think of her?" Baedrix asked his friend now, pitching his voice low so
their conversation was as private as possible, considering their circumstances.

"I think it will be a long while before people can put aside her bloodlines, her magic,
and her beauty, and realize what a wise, sensible queen she is," Carious said after a moment of
thought. "And I think I look forward to the battle royal, when we reach Quenlaque, and the
power-hungry schemers scramble to find ways to control her. Once they get over the shock of
realizing that the heir is a maiden and not a lad." He snorted, grinning wide. "I don't doubt a
dozen fathers are preparing their daughters to win the seat on the throne beside Athrar's
heir."

"The dangerous ones are those who have searched the archives and know her name.
They, or their sons, are preparing right now to win her heart." He glanced over his shoulder at
Emrillian, and wondered if she had a sweetheart back home in Moerta, among her Archaics
friends. It would be wise, politically, for the queen to have a consort from the modern
world.

"And those who don't have anyone to marry the heir, to gain control that way..."
Carious sighed and shook his head, his expression going grim. "The truly dangerous ones will be
masked as friends. The trustworthy ones will be the bullies and arrogant boors. They at least
show their true faces and speak their minds openly and honestly."

"I think, though, that the Estall blessed us, giving Athrar a daughter rather than a son.
Her enemies in Court won't know how to deal with her, because she can think in both worlds and
times, and they will assume that she will want a husband to rule for her."

"I think whichever husband wins her heart...will be won first, and gladly let her rule
him." Carious grinned, just for a moment. Then he looked ahead to the copse of trees. "How
soon until we reach the tunnel?"

"Not long. But I want to give any watchers the impression that we have a long journey."
Baedrix glanced over his shoulder again at Emrillian. She looked ahead now, visibly studying the
landscape, while the Valors on either side of her carried on some sort of friendly argument,
judging by their rising voices, shaking heads and grins.

He was pleased that the four looked relaxed enough in her company. They were good
men, loyal, and didn't believe that all women were born naturally limited in their wits. Then
again, they came from families who had female soldiers and Valors in their bloodlines. They
kept the memories alive, of a day when women were just as fierce in battle and just as skilled in
magic as men.

"I remember reading in the histories, how the Noveni lords lived in terror that the
Rey'kil wanted to take over Moerta, and they fought to keep the Warhawk from marrying into
magic bloodlines. I think the Estall blessed us when Athrar wed the granddaughter of Mrillis.
What other queen could lead us in this time of danger?"

Baedrix again glanced over his shoulder at Emrillian. It wasn't necessary to keep
checking on her, he knew. She was independent and alert, able to take care of herself, and not so
proud that she would take foolish risks in unfamiliar territory. It amused him to speculate how
soon it would be, until all of Lygroes was familiar to the Warhawk's heir.

He admitted that he liked looking at her. What was so wrong with that? Emrillian was
beautiful without the flashing brilliance most women considered necessary. She had strength and
poise without needing to constantly command attention. Her mind was sharp and quick. Their
conversations, over the most mundane details of their journey or strategy, had been interesting.
She could make jokes to liven dull topics and find a glimmer of positive in old troubles. He
admired her.

He compared her with Naylia, Baedrix suddenly realized. Emrillian, he decided, would
never let herself die from a simple fever, fear, and premature childbirth. The queen was alive and
alert, strong in mind and body, despite the idealism that made her look young and vulnerable.
Baedrix longed to protect her, and knew she needed no protection. She could endure every
disappointment and find hope in failure.