The Second God (13 page)

“And the consequences of that?” Arran said.

A long pause. “Perhaps nothing. Perhaps damage to your mind. Perhaps death.” His voice dropped to little more than a whisper. “You must understand and accept this before you agree to anything. And whether it succeeds or fails, none of us will ever be the same again.”

~~~~~

I went to see Yannassia. She and Torthran were sitting on the floor playing a game with their little girl. I smiled at such a domestic scene, struck by guilt that I’d not yet seen my own children since my return. But then, I’d never had Yannassia’s ability to set aside everything else and focus on the moment. If I’d gone to see the children straight away, the blood-bonding would have filled my mind and made me distracted. It was better to clear my thoughts first.

Yannassia could read my face, for she immediately called the nurse over. “Take Torthrina back to the nursery, if you please. Yes, I know, little one, but I will come and see you in a while. Perhaps Papa will read to you, eh?”

Torthran nodded, and disappeared with the others. As the door opened and closed, the murmur of masculine voices drifted in from the room beyond, as my bodyguard exchanged courtesies with Yannassia’s.

“Now, Drina,” Yannassia said, settling herself in a comfortable chair and waving me to its partner. “Tell me all.”

So I did, everything Ly had said about the blood-bonding. I left nothing out, and she listened in silence.

“You wish to do this?” she said, when I finally stumbled to silence.

“I don’t know. It ties me to Ly, even more than I am already tied, and if I go with him to chase after this boy, I shall be in the Clanlands for moons, possibly. Maybe even the whole winter.”

“You may never come back,” she said crisply.

That was as painful as an arrow through my heart. Never return to Kingswell, to Bennamore? Spend the rest of my life in the illiterate Clanlands? It would be insupportable. Yet almost at once I had an image of Ly’s island so far away on the great inland sea, so peaceful and secluded, and Ly himself, bringing fresh food for us and cooking it himself. No meetings, no need to be the Drashona’s heir, no rigid protocol. For a short while amidst all the turmoil of those times, we had both been happy. Yes, I could live there, if I had Arran, too, and my books. And the children, with the time to play with them and read to them and teach them.

There was an appeal in that. My eyebrows lifted.

Yannassia laughed at my surprise. “That possibility never occurred to you? It was the first thing to enter my mind when you suggested marrying Ly. As the leader of his people, naturally you will be drawn into his world. The only wonder is that it took so long.”

“No, it never occurred to me,” I said sheepishly. “How stupid of me. But that makes this even more of a major decision. You do not need me as heir any longer, for Hethryn is well able to take on that role, but I still have something to contribute to Bennamore, I hope.”

“Indeed you do,” she said. “When the Nobles’ Council confirms Hethryn as Drashonor in the autumn, as I fully expect, it is likely that you will remain as Bai-Drashonor. Your brother makes rather a good High Commander, and has turned out better than any of us could have hoped, but he is not at all political. But Drina, your greatest aid to Bennamore now is to ensure that there is no threat to us from the Blood Clans. If that means entering into this blood-bond with Ly, then I have no objection to it, whatever the consequences. But the decision must be yours.”

“I should like to discuss it with my mother and Cal. Would you mind if I go back to Lakeside?”

“That is a good idea. You will fly this time, of course. Very well, I will send word to the mirror room at the scribery there.”

I rose to go, but Yannassia lifted a hand. “One thing I forgot to ask – you watched this Challenge ceremony through Ly’s eyes, yes?” I nodded. “Did you see anything of Lathran?”

“No, nothing. Ly and I were both watching for him, but he wasn’t there.”

She smiled. “Ah, but he was. He followed Ly about for hours, he said. At least twice, Ly looked straight at him.”

That took me aback. I’d grown up with Lathran, I’d have recognised him anywhere, or so I’d have thought. “Well, I wasn’t paying enough attention, then.”

“Not your fault. He is very, very good at what he does. His own mother would not be able to pick him out of a crowd – and yes, before you ask, we have tried it with both his parents. So I am going to send him to Greenstone Ford, to see if he can get in there and make contact with our people. Perhaps he can get them out, too.”

I went cold. “That is highly dangerous. We know nothing of what is happening behind those walls, except that an army is being built there, and a bridge that will make it easy for them to cross the river when the time comes to invade us. And Arran…” I hesitated, but it had to be said. I swallowed once, then went on, “Arran revealed that we have spies living secretly there. We do not know who may be aware of that, and watching everything. It is too dangerous to send anyone else there now.”

“Much that we do for the good of our people is dangerous, Drina. Lathran has accepted the risk, just as you, perhaps, may accept the risk of this blood-bonding. We cannot read the future, but we do whatever is necessary to prepare for it as best we can.”

There was no comfort in her words.

I left Arran and Ly behind, and flew straight back to Lakeside, to the same rooms in the guest hall. This time, the Kellon came to see me, his face a picture of concern.

“Most Powerful? I hope… nothing is wrong?”

“Not at all, Gracious Lord. Just a private matter to discuss with my parents. Family business.” It wasn’t quite true, but it would serve the purpose.

His expression lifted. “Ah, yes. Of course. May we look forward to the honour of your company at evening board? And Lord Mage Cal and Lady Mage Kyra, of course.”

“You are very kind, but for tonight we will eat privately. Perhaps tomorrow.”

He bowed himself out of the room, and I settled down to wait for Mother and Cal.

It was Sallorna who arrived, though, breathless with excitement. “Have you heard? Such a to-do!”

I smiled at her. “Heard what? Tell me all!”

“Rinnfarr Gap has fallen!”

That made me sit up straight. “Rinnfarr Gap? Fallen? To whom?” But I knew at once who it must be. “The golden army of Greenstone Ford.”

“Oh – you know about it, then?” She sounded disappointed.

“No, nothing, but there is no other armed force in the area large enough and organised enough to take a town of that size.”

“It could have been the Vahsi,” she said sulkily. “That was what
I
thought, anyway. But you are right, they came from Greenstone Ford. But why, Drina? What do they want with Rinnfarr Gap?”

“Perhaps to build one of their temples,” I said slowly, mulling the idea over. “They were refused a few years ago. But it seems to me that there is more to it. These people now control both the main trade routes to the south of the Karningplain – Greenstone Ford is the only access point to Bennamore, and Rinnfarr Gap connects to Dellonar, the coast and all the Port Holdings. And I do not like that at all.”

In the end, I had no choice but to eat evening board with the Kellon and his advisors, while they plied me with questions about Rinnfarr Gap and Greenstone Ford as if I were some kind of expert. I had at least seen Greenstone Ford, which was more than any of them could boast, but still, my knowledge was no greater than theirs. I guessed that there would be a surge of interest in maps of the region in the moons to come.

“But will it mean war?” the Kellon said. “Rinnfarr Gap is an ally, is it not? A trading partner, at least.”

“We have no treaties or alliances with them, so we have no obligation,” I said. “So long as the new power allows trade to continue freely there is no problem. If they block access to the river and thereby cut trading links with Dellonar, that would be a different matter. We have any number of treaties with the Port Holdings, and we would be obliged to act if they were threatened.”

“It is lucky, then, that our other neighbours are peaceable,” the Kellon said. “One border war at a time is more than enough.”

I had to agree with him on that point.

Mother and Cal walked back with me to the guest hall. “Will you have to go back to Kingswell at once?” Mother said. “We haven’t even talked yet about what brought you here.”

“Sunshine needs some time to rest after the journey,” I said. “So do I, if it comes to that! It’s a long flight. We will talk tomorrow. Can you come over early? I don’t want to interfere with your work. You must be busy with so many Clanfolk here for the Challenge.”

“They’ve almost all gone,” Mother said. “We saw quite a few in the moon between their Blood Ceremony and the Challenge, but they’ve mostly left now. Just those who live in their village across the lake. We could heal far more of them, you know. The black-bark harvest brings in far more silvers than they spend on spellpages.”

“They are still suspicious of us,” Cal added. “But they’ve realised that our magic really works, even if they don’t understand it.”

“We don’t understand it, either,” Mother said. “But magic isn’t meant to be understood.”

That was true enough. The Blood Clans lived by their magic and we lived by ours, yet none of us truly knew what we were dealing with. It was all uncertain and mysterious.

~~~~~

Mother and Cal came early the following morning, and we settled down for morning board together. Over bread and honey and cold meat, I told them everything about the blood-bonding that Ly proposed.

“Oh, petal!” Cal said. “What a difficult decision to make.”

Mother shook her head. “You’ve always been thrust into these impossible situations. When you first knew Ly, and had to deal with his magic… and that horrible business with the Icthari trying to kill you… It’s not right! You should be like Sallorna, studying quietly and building a career, not making these life or death decisions.”

“It’s what she’s been trained for,” Cal said mildly. “She’s Yannassia’s heir, and making tricky decisions is part of the job. But I’m not sure what we can say that would be helpful to you, petal. Either you feel the risk is worthwhile, or you don’t.”

“What would happen if you
don’t
agree to this?” Mother said. “Would Ly go into the Clanlands on his own?”

“I don’t think he would,” I said. “He can’t easily find this second
byan shar
without me. I can detect his magic, but Ly can’t – his own is too strong. And I can
take
this boy’s magic from him, if need be, although that wouldn’t help unless we can capture him, somehow, which doesn’t seem likely. The two of us – or rather the
three
of us – would have a real possibility of finding the boy and at least talking to him. On his own, I don’t know what Ly can do.”

“So I suppose you have to do this?” Mother said gently.

“And yet, you’ve come all this way to discuss it with us,” Cal said. “That suggests you have strong reservations about it.”

I was silent, knowing perfectly well the cause of my hesitation. “If it were just me, I wouldn’t hesitate,” I said. “But Arran… it’s such a risk, and… I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to him! How could I possibly go on without him? I… it would be… no, I can’t even think about it! It would be too horrible, too horrible!”

Cal moved his chair next to mine, and held me in his arms for a long time until I’d almost stopped weeping.

“Then I think you have your answer,” he said quietly.

~~~~~

I left Lakeside at first light the next morning, and even as Sunshine landed on the Keep roof, the watch captain rushed forward to tell me I was wanted immediately in the planning room. I’d expected that. Rinnfarr Gap had taken us by surprise, but now we had to formulate a response.

The atmosphere in the planning room was tense. I could see at once the two factions. On one side, my brother Axandor, the army High Commander, surrounded by the most war-prone of the nobles. Naturally they would want to sweep the army into action immediately. On the other, Yannassia and her advisors, more cautious, circling slowly round the problem. And Hethryn in the middle, calmly interrogating the law scribes on the exact state of our arrangements with Rinnfarr Gap.

I had nothing sensible to contribute to the debate, but even so, several people greeted my arrival with relief. “Ah, the Drashonor at last! Excellent! Do tell us, Most Powerful… On your visit to Greenstone Ford, Highness… What is the opinion of the northern border, Most Powerful…?”

The discussion went on all afternoon and into the evening until my head was spinning, and even Yannassia was beginning to wilt. Eventually, she said, “It is late, and we are all tired and hungry, I am sure. Hethryn, summarise with a proposal, if you please.”

He rose to his feet. “We are not required to intervene on behalf of Rinnfarr Gap, which is fully independent. That much is clear. Nor have they asked for our help. We do, however, have an obligation to defend the Port Holdings. I propose that we move troops from the northwestern and southwestern borders, which have no current threat, to the south, ready to aid the Port Holdings in case of any attack there. We should also maintain vigilance on the eastern border in case the golden army attacks Bennamore.”

“Then that is what we shall do,” Yannassia said, rising and shaking out her skirts. “See to it, High Commander.” She swept out with her retinue.

Axandor bowed smartly. He’d never been terribly bright, but he’d found a niche in the army which suited him well, and he’d learned when to speak and when to hold his tongue, which was the first requirement for high politics. When we were children I’d despised and ignored him, and he’d fallen into our older sister’s orbit, which hadn’t turned out well for any of us. But he’d grown up, and I’d mellowed, and we rubbed along together reasonably well now.

He still liked the uniform and the high rank, though, for he strutted out after Yannassia with a self-important swagger, a little gaggle of commanders in his wake.

Arran was waiting outside the planning room for me. My heart leapt to see him, and I walked straight into his arms.

“You look tired,” he murmured into my hair, for I was still in my flying gear. “How about a nice long soak in the tub? And then something special to eat? Ly is preparing one of his concoctions.”

“Is he? That will be lovely. And a bath, too. Will you scrub my back?”

He chuckled. “Of course, my little flower. Whatever you want.”

But when we reached the apartment, I had a sudden yearning to see the children before they were whisked away to bed. Then I bathed, and afterwards took an unusually long time to decide what to wear. My poor waiting women! Usually they would lay out three options and I would pick one almost at random. Now I sent them back to the hanging rooms repeatedly with requests for something plainer, or cooler, or prettier. And in the end I chose one of the first outfits they’d selected.

We went to Ly’s apartment to eat. He’d prepared one of his special fish dishes for me, stuffed with fruit and honey and some kind of wild grain that his people used a lot. I’d taken so long getting ready that it was dry and not at all as nice as usual, but I didn’t complain and Ly said nothing about my lateness.

The two men talked valiantly about everything under the sun except the one thing they most wanted to ask about. I couldn’t talk at all, and only toyed with my food. Eventually, I pushed my plate away.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t do it.”

“Do what, sweetheart?” Arran said gently.

“The blood-bonding. I just can’t!” And then tears overwhelmed me.

Arran held me and rocked me and murmured into my ear until I’d calmed myself a little.

“I’m sorry,” I said again, looking at Ly.

He hesitated, then said carefully, “You must do as you think best for all of us, as always.”

I didn’t dare look at Arran. There was nothing more to say, so we went back early to our own rooms, speeding through the apartment in silence. As we walked, I reached for his hand and he squeezed mine, giving me a wan smile, but then his eyes drooped again. When we entered the bedroom, he would have undressed and gone to bed in the same sad silence, but I couldn’t bear that.

“You’re disappointed,” I said, taking both his hands so that he had to face me.

“Of course.” His face flared with energy. “I really thought… I
hoped
that for once I could be something more than just your shadow. I
love
being your drusse, so you must not misunderstand my meaning, but I do feel… a bit useless sometimes. I have no purpose to my life except to walk two paces behind you, and wait for you, and hold you tight when life gets you down. And so often you have no need of me even for those trivial functions, because you have Ly and you go off together and have adventures and nearly get yourself killed, and I cannot even be there to protect you. But now Ly really needs my help, and I so much want to do it… wanted to, I mean. To have a real function, and not just be pointless.”

“Oh, darling! You’re not at all pointless, not to me. And it’s so dangerous, this blood-bonding, especially for you.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “I have never shied away from danger. That is why I went into the Elite, and became a bodyguard, after all. Part of me envies Axandor, you know, for if things
do
turn to war, he will be in the midst of it all. So the risk of the blood-bonding is the last thing I worry about.”

“But
I
worry about it!” I cried. “I worry about
you
. What would I do if anything happened to you? I couldn’t live without you!”

“Oh, sweetheart!” He pulled me close, and I rested my cheek against his broad chest. I could feel the warmth of his body through his shirt, and his familiar male smell was so comforting. Surely Arran would always be here to hold me tight, to reassure me that everything would be fine? “Sweetheart,” he said again, in a stronger voice. “You would get by very well without me.”

I pushed away from him. “How can you
say
that? It’s not true!”

“Hush, hush! No tears. Come over here and sit beside me.” Meekly I let him lead me to the window seat. When we were settled, my head on his shoulder, he went on, “Did I ever tell you about my mother? No? She was the lynchpin of the family, the one we all turned to when we needed advice or comfort, the one who kept everything turning. Whatever disaster befell any of us, she made it better. Everyone adored her. But when I was twelve, she… she died – a stupid carriage accident. For a while, we all went to pieces, drifting, like flotsam on the river. At the time, it seemed like the end of everything. My poor father was devastated, sunk in perpetual gloom. My brother and sisters and I… we had no idea what to do with our lives. We were quite lost. But gradually, bit by bit, we got up and carried on. Mother left us some wonderful memories and we never forgot her, but we carried on. And if anything were to happen to me,
you
would carry on, too.”