The Shapechangers (17 page)

“Duncan—”

“You will see when we have reached the Keep.”

“Are so few left?”

“Perhaps fifty women, half of which cannot bear children. The rest are old men, girls, and boys. Of warriors…there are perhaps sixty.”

The horror of the
qu’mahlin
swept into her for the first time. “Duncan…”

He looked old suddenly. “Once this land was ours. More than fifty clans ranged Homana, from Hondarth on the Idrian Ocean into the mountains of the north, across the Bluetooth River. Now they are all slain, leaving only my own clan. And we are not so strong as we were.”

“Shaine’s doing…”

He reached out and caught one of her arms, eyes beseeching her. “Do you see it now? Do you understand why we steal women and force them to bear our children? Alix, it is the survival of a race. It is not
you
the Council will see, but your race and your youth. You must serve your race,
cheysula.
”

She sat straight upon the pelt. “And will they hear you have called me that?”

He released her arm. “I will ask for you. It is my
tahlmorra.
”
Duncan gestured slowly, spreading his fingers. “You are Hale’s daughter. I think they will not deny me.”

She felt chilled. “But—they
could?
They could refuse you?”

His hand dropped. “Aye. First you must be acknowledged within the clan, given the knowledge in the old fashion, made aware of your birthlines. The
shar tahl
will say if you are truly Cheysuli.”

“But—
you
have said!”

Duncan smiled sadly. “There is no doubt, small one; it is only custom. But you have been raised Homanan. In the eyes of the Council, you are tainted. Until the
shar tahl
has declared you free of it.”

Desolate, she closed her eyes. Her growing security in him was destroyed with but a few words. Then her eyes snapped open.

“They would not give me to
Finn!
”

Duncan’s face was a mixture of surprise and amusement, then consideration. He frowned.

Alix was suddenly frightened. “Duncan, they would not!”

He turned the spitted bird slowly. “I am clan-leader, but not the sole power in the clan. It is Council that says what will be.”

She leaped to her feet and stumbled to the rock wall facing her. She stared at it blindly, hugging the blanket around her aching body. The new knowledge of what Duncan meant to her twisted in her entrails like a serpent, setting jagged teeth into her spirit.

To lose him when I have only just found him…

Duncan’s hands settled on her shoulders. “I will not let you go so easily.”

Trembling, she turned to him. “Could you gainsay it, if they wished to give me to another man?”

Muscles rolled beneath the smooth flesh of his jaw. “No.”

“Then what of this
tahlmorra
you prate about?”

“It is mine, Alix,” he said somberly. “It does not mean it is the clan’s.”

She whispered his name. Then she lifted her face and touched his arm. “If I went before this Council already carrying your child…?”

His eyes flickered in surprise. Then he smiled faintly. “If you made such a sacrifice, small one, there would be little they could say about the match.”

Alix let the blanket drop. The gown beneath, ungirdled, hung loosely. Slowly she undid the fastenings at the neck. Duncan watched her mutely, held by the strength in her eyes. His breath came harsh.

When the gown was undone she let it fall to her feet. Her hair, unbound, streamed over her shoulders like a mantle.

“I am new to this…” she whispered, trembling with something other than fear. “Duncan…it cannot be so very difficult to conceive…”

“No,” he breathed, reaching for her. “It is not so very difficult.”

He took her from Homana into Ellas, the realm bordering Homana’s eastern side. Alix, clasping his lean waist with a new and wonderful possessiveness, felt regret and anger stir within her that her grandsire could so malignantly drive her race from their homeland into a strange realm.

When at last Duncan halted Alix saw before her a large half-circle wall of piled stone. The wall ran a distance before circling back, and at the wide opening she saw three warriors with their
lir.
They waited silently, and she realized they were guards.

“The Keep,” Duncan said, and rode past the warriors.

Huge oiled pavilions billowed in a faint breeze. All were dyed warm colors, dwarfing the small tents she had seen at the raiding camp. Each had its own firepit before flapped entrances, but smoke drifted from the poled peaks and she realized smaller fires were tended within. Each pavilion, regardless of its color, bore a painted animal on its sides. By the shapes she could know what
lir
lived there.

The curving wall of undressed, unmortared stone hugged the shoulder of a craggy mountain. The half-circle blended into thick, sheltering trees. Alix realized such anonymity was the safety of the Cheysuli.

Duncan halted the horse before a green pavilion. She looked for the hawk painting on its side but saw only a wolf.

She stiffened. “Why do we stop here?”

“I would see my
rujho
,” he said quietly, slipping from the horse. He turned to lift her down.

“Why? I want nothing to do with Finn.”

Duncan eyed her thoughtfully. “When last I saw him, he was feverish from the wounds gotten in the forest battle.” His mouth was firm. “Wounds won protecting you.”

Chastened, Alix slipped silently into his arms and allowed him to lead her into the pavilion.

Finn was stretched out on a pallet of thick furs, wrapped in a soft woven blanket. As he saw them he hoisted himself up on one elbow and grinned at her.

“So, my
rujho
managed to win you away from the wealth of Homana-Mujhar…and Carillon.”

She had been prepared to wish him well, feeling guilty over his injuries gotten in her behalf. But now, facing his mocking eyes and words, her good intentions evaporated.

“I came willingly enough, when my grandsire called me shapechanger witch and threatened to have me slain.”

“I
said
your place was with us,
meijha
; not among the walls of Shaine’s palace…or within the princeling’s arms.”

She glared at him. “You do not look feverish to me.”

He laughed. “I am fully recovered,
meijha.
Or nearly. I will be plaguing you soon enough, when I am on my feet.”

“You do not require feet to do that!” She scowled at him. “You need only be in my presence.”

Finn grinned and ran a hand through his hair. She saw his eyes were alert and unclouded by illness, though his color was not as deep as usual. Inwardly she was grateful he had not been badly injured, but she would not say it to him.

“Will you two never admit peace between you?” Duncan growled. “Must I ever seek to placate you, one at a time?”

“She is a woman,
rujho
,” Finn said airily. “And they are ever the cause of much agitation.”

Before Alix could answer Duncan put a firm hand on her shoulder, pressing gently. She said nothing, but saw Finn’s eyes narrow suspiciously. Alix could not keep her face from turning bright red.

He smiled slowly, watching her, eyes very bright. He was not stupid, she knew. He looked at Duncan with a blank mask on his face.

“Malina has conceived.”

Duncan’s hand bit into Alix’s shoulder. She stared at him in surprise, seeing him go pale beneath his Cheysuli coloring. She was new to a woman’s intuition for her mate, but understood instantly that something had deeply shaken him.

“Is it certain?” Duncan asked in a peculiar voice.

Finn nodded. “She is four months gone.” His face twisted mockingly. “Was it not four months ago when she turned from you to Borrs, and took him as her
cheysul
?”

“I count, Finn!” Duncan said angrily.

The younger man looked at Alix’s uncomprehending face. He smiled more broadly. “And now Borrs is among the soulless men, seeking his death-ritual. Malina is free again.”

Instinctively Alix reached for Duncan’s clenched fist. But he withdrew his hand from her seeking fingers and stepped away, putting distance between them.

“Has she declared the unborn child before Council yet?” he asked harshly.

Finn, solemn again, shook his head. “She has been in formal mourning for the last three days, since she learned of the news. But it will have to be a brief mourning, if she is to take another
cheysul.
”

“Did Borrs know of the child?”

Finn hunched a shoulder. “He said nothing of it to me. But then he knew you and I are close,
rujho
, and he would hardly speak of such a thing to the
rujholli
of the man who first had his
cheysula.
Would he?”

“Then she has not named the
jehan.
”

A mocking glint crept back into Finn’s eyes. “Perhaps even Malina does not know the
jehan
of her unborn child,
rujho.
Do you?”

Alix stepped toward him. “What do you say? What has this to do with Duncan?”

“It would be better, perhaps, he told you himself.”

“
Tell
me!”

Finn slid a glance at his silent brother, then nodded slightly. His smile was wolfish and triumphant. “Duncan would have asked for formal clan-rights of Malina next year, taking her as his
cheysula.
She had been his since I can remember…in the clans children are close and often wed when they are of age.” He scratched at an eyebrow. “But Borrs also wanted her, and when Duncan wished to wait because of becoming clan-leader, Malina did not. I cannot account for a woman’s whim to punish one man by taking another, but it is what she did.” He looked intently at Duncan. “Yet now Borrs is among the soulless men, clanless, and she is free to choose again.” He paused significantly. “Or
be
chosen.”

Alix, aware of Finn’s natural perversity, sought the truth in Duncan’s eyes. He turned from her and went out the flapped entrance, saying no word.

Finn’s low laugh stung her. Alix turned on him, furious, fist upraised in his direction. But he laughed again, amused by her action, and she dropped the hand back to her side.

“Why?” she asked. “Why do you punish me this way?”

He sat up, crossing his legs beneath his blanket. He wore no jerkin and she saw the bronze of his broad chest was ridged with scars. The wound in his shoulder was unbound but healing, and she recalled again his savagery as he slew the guardsman who would have slain her.

“So,” he said in a low, taunting voice, “you recognize the
tahlmorra
in yourself at last. I see you have chosen my
rujholli
after all, forsaking even Carillon. Only now Duncan returns to his first woman.” He clucked his tongue. “Poor little
meijha.
”

“I require no pity from you!”

“Duncan differs from me in many ways,
meijha
; particularly in his women. He has long been satisfied with Malina, requiring no others.” He shrugged. “I take a woman where I will; freely. Save for you, they have never denied me.”

“What do you say!”

“That Duncan makes a life-bond when he takes a
cheysula.
If Malina is offering clan-rights with proven fertility, he would be a fool to deny her.” He stretched idly, cracking tough sinews. “My
rujho
is many things, but he is not a fool.” Finn grinned at her. “Do not worry,
meijha
…I will still have you. You will not be lonely.”

She longed to scream at him but did not. Somehow she summoned a regal elegance, even in a torn and stained gown.

“I am Hale’s daughter…I believe it now. Therefore I am Cheysuli. Therefore I have free choice of any man,
rujholli
, and I tell you now—you would be the last warrior I would ever consider. The
last.
”

Alix left him feeling a strange satisfaction that she had so easily bested him. The look on his face had assured her victory. But the satisfaction faded as she recalled the cause of it. Outside Finn’s green pavilion. Alix hugged herself and longed for Duncan.

Cai drifted down from the skies.
Come with me
, liren.

Where?
she asked dully.

To my
lir.

Your
lir
seeks the company of another woman.

Cai’s tone was exceedingly gentle.
You are weary and filled with sorrow and confusion. Come with me.

Silently Alix followed the bird across the Keep to a slate-colored pavilion embellished with a painted gold hawk. As Cai settled on his polished wooden perch she pulled the doorflap aside and went in.

Duncan had filled his pavilion with thick soft pelts and a richly embroidered tapestry. Alix stared at it blankly, unable to decipher the runes and odd symbols stitched in the blue pattern. Then she knelt before the ash-filled fire cairn.

She felt very small. An ague seemed to have settled in her bones, rattling them even as she sought to calm herself. Her breath seemed to have gone completely; repeated gasps only worsened her need for air. Finally she bowed her head and clutched at it, pressing against her temples.

“By the gods…” she whispered, “what have I done?” She drew in a deep breath. “I have left my croft…I have been
sent from Homana-Mujhar…I have ridden into a strange realm with a man I cannot understand, and he has forsaken me as easily as Shaine.” Alix clenched her fists as if to drive demons from her skull. “I have
given
myself to him…and now he seeks another!” She lifted her head and stared blindly at the tapestry. “What have I done?”

The tapestry did not answer her; nor did Cai. Alix longed for his warm tone and reassurance, but the hawk remained silent. She became aware of other whispers in her mind. They formed patterns and tones like the ones she had heard before the forest battle, but did not oppress her as much.

“I am gone mad,” she whispered.

The whispers and tones continued, rising and falling as any ordinary conversation. She began to separate the sounds, frowning in concentration as she tried to understand the implications. Alix dragged fingers through her hair as if to untangle the threads of the patterns and realized how tangled her hair was. She took the silver comb Duncan had given her from her bodice and began to drag it through the snarls, hoping the pain would rid her of what she could not understand.