THREE DROPS OF BLOOD (36 page)

Valors leaped up onto the dais, hands extended--to grasp either Efrin or Megassa,
Meghianna couldn't be sure. All that was clear to her was the sudden gasp of shock that rocked
the entire hall and silenced the crowd of infuriated courtiers. Mrillis shouted, his voice
reverberating from the walls and among the Threads, so his words were indistinguishable. Magic
flared, freezing everyone, except for him, Efrin, and Meghianna.

"The truth!" he snapped. "I will have the truth from all of you!" The Threads grew
visible, neatly wrapped around every courtier and Valor, their colors tinged by the emotions of
those they held prisoner, their lights dimmed or flaring to match the purity of the souls.

Meghianna marveled at how closely she had guessed the spirits of most of the courtiers,
and how far from the truth she was in judging others. Then she shuddered at how easily she
could be distracted from the enormity of what Mrillis had done. Or perhaps her mind shied away
from it because it was so drastic and extreme a step to take.

"Command, Queen of Snows," Mrillis said, his voice hollow. "Echo her, Warhawk,
bearer of Braenlicach. Let the truth, and only the one necessary truth, be spoken."

"One necessary truth?" Efrin whispered. His words rang through the room, setting off
echoes from the Threads, as if they had turned to polished sword steel, as fine and pure as
glass.

"Whatever questions you ask must be answered truthfully and fully," Meghianna said. It
was hard to speak. She felt as if a hand gloved in thick fur wrapped around her throat. "It would
be cruel to tear so many secrets from so many minds."

"Ah. Yes. Convenient, but cruel and...wrong." He nodded and sank down into his
throne again, before drawing Braenlicach from the scabbard with shaking hands and laying it flat
to rest across his knees.

"Who poisoned Queen Glyssani to prevent the conception of the Warhawk's heir? And
why did you do it?" Meghianna said, stretching out her hands, mental and physical, to touch the
thick, blue and white Thread that stretched from floor to ceiling beside her, the main root that all
the Threads sprang from, forming the web that filled the room. Efrin spoke the words after her,
the sound of his voice echoing in shimmering whispers for the space of five heartbeats.

"I did," Lorkin said, his voice hoarse, his face growing red, sweat dripping into his eyes.
Hatred burned in those eyes, focused on Meghianna.

"For our son," Megassa said, shuddering. "Our son should sit on his grandfather's
throne. After all I have done for the Warhawk, all I sacrificed, it is only right!"

"You are your mother's daughter," Efrin said, shaking his head, only sorrow on his face
and straining his voice. "After all we taught you, how can you believe such a thing?"

"Enough," Mrillis said. He raised his hands again and light burst from his fingertips, the
blue tinged with the red of pain as he released the Threads and those imprisoned among the loops
and knots. All but Megassa and Lorkin. He staggered backward two steps, and Meghianna
reached to catch him, terrified he would fall.

"All of you. Out of my presence!" Efrin roared, waving Braenlicach as if he would swat
those nearest to him with the flat of the blade. The star-metal sword blazed red and silver, casting
strange, stark shadows across many faces. "Markas." He tried to smile, but his mouth froze in a
grimace of fury. "Go to your mother. She needs you." He took deep breaths, shuddering, as the
young king of Welcairn bowed to him and hurried from the room.

In moments, only the five of them remained in the room. Even the Valors on guard duty
left, when Efrin gestured them away with Braenlicach. He walked in a large circle around
Megassa and Lorkin, locked together in each other's arms, tied in a knot of one Thread that
pulsed black and red with anger.

"So, you are pregnant. Despite the vows of purity and self-control you made when you
became a Valor." Efrin sheathed Braenlicach with a fast, hard shove that strained the leather
cords holding the scabbard to his belt. "I could have forgiven that, easily. I know what it is to
burn with love and hunger. But to poison my queen? Glyssani loves you. How could you do that
to her?" He shook his head when Megassa opened her mouth to respond. "I don't want to hear
your lies and your justifications." He spun on one heel to focus his glare on Mrillis. "After all we
did to free her of Trevissa and Triska's evil--couldn't any of us have foreseen and prevented
this?"

"Hindsight," Mrillis said. His voice was steady, calm, but Meghianna sensed the
weariness and ache hiding just under the surface of his face and voice. "Just so, people claimed
we should have known the children of the Nameless One were irredeemable, and should have
been slaughtered instead of rescued from Flintan."

"Maybe they should have," Efrin muttered.

"Meghianna would not be here today, if we had done that. Nor Belissa. Nor Nainan,
who was part of the forging of Braenlicach. Endor and Triska performed many good and
important services for Lygroes and the Warhawk and the Stronghold. Would you erase all the
good that resulted from those three children existing, to erase the evil that came with them?"

"You told me many times, Papa, that love makes us fools," Meghianna offered. She
clenched her fists so her nails dug into her palms, and stayed in her place instead of running to
Efrin to fling her arms around him--or to embrace Megassa and share her fury and fear.
"Megassa loves her son and wants the world for him. Your grandson."

"Are you asking me to forgive, to condone what she did?" Efrin turned so quickly to
face her, he staggered. The strain of the last hour showed even more clearly on his face now.

"No, Papa. Just to understand. Yes, she was selfish. She was wrong. But she still loves
you. And you still love her, no matter how angry you are. No matter how it hurts. And if
Glyssani were here, she would forgive Megassa. No matter how much it hurts."

"Then my love has a stronger, fairer, purer heart than I," he growled. He closed his eyes,
swallowed hard, and nodded. "You are right. But I can't forgive. Not yet."

"Please, Papa," Megassa whispered.

She would have said more, but Efrin raised a hand, silencing them all. The four watched
him, waiting, as he paced the length of the dais three times, gnawing his bottom lip, his eyes
burning with sleeplessness and grief. Then he stopped and turned to look at the two
prisoners.

"Lord Lorkin, your ancestral estate in the Wayhauk Mountains... it is defensible?
Livable? You have people there?"

"Yes, Majesty," Lorkin said, his voice calm, resigned. "But it is not fit yet for the
daughter of the Warhawk. Perhaps in three more years--"

"It is fit now for two who are in disgrace. You can use your time of exile to beat back
the Encindi and tame the land and make it fit for your wife and child. You two will leave before
dawn and you will not show your faces in this place until I send for you. Is that clear?"

"But what about our wedding?" Megassa whispered, as enormous tears filled her
eyes.

"Selfish ninny!" He stomped up so close, the force of his breath stirred her filmy
emerald scarf. "I can forgive many things, Lord Lorkin, but turning my intelligent, sensible,
warrior daughter into a selfish ball of fluff, concerned about nothing but jewels and clothes and
gossip--that I cannot forgive. Very well, you will be married, legally and formally. Though why
you should worry about such things now, with a baby in your belly--..." With a gusting sigh of
fury, he turned and stomped off the dais.

Meghianna and Mrillis stayed perfectly still, waiting, until the door banged open and
thudded closed, and the ringing sound of the nails in his boots on the stone floor faded away.
Then Meghianna let out a loud, sighing breath and Mrillis snapped his fingers, releasing the last
Thread.

"Why did you have to confess?" Megassa said, as she and Lorkin stumbled free, still
clinging to each other. "We both could have withstood the magic. It was uncomfortable, but not
enough to force the truth from us."

"To save you and your child, I assume," Meghianna said. "The testing Parcef demanded
would have killed the baby, at the very least." She felt some comfort in seeing Megassa go pale
and press both hands over her still-flat belly. "Shall I test you, Megs, to see how both of you are
after all this?"

"All this?" Her sister let out a sharp bark of laughter. "Oh, how could you let him send
us away so soon? What will everyone think, with the wedding only a few days away and all the
preparations and the people still arriving and the food and the musicians and--" She covered her
face with her hands and sagged against Lorkin, sobbing.

"Take her to her room," Meghianna told Lorkin, gratified with the concern that wiped all
other emotions from his face. She had feared after the humiliation and condemnation and the
crushing of his plans, he might reveal that he didn't actually love her. "I will tend her
myself."

"I can't imagine you would trust anyone else not to poison her, once word gets around,"
Lorkin grumbled, but he nodded his thanks and scooped up Megassa to carry her from the
room.

The Star-Mother who was to officiate at the wedding ceremony came to Megassa's
quarters that night and performed the binding ceremony, with only Meghianna, Captain Gynefra,
and a handful of Megassa's and Lorkin's friends as witnesses. There was no feasting, no dancing
and singing to celebrate. The bride made her vows with a soft voice, pale, dressed in her best
gown because the seamstress hadn't finished the wedding gown. No one wished the bridal couple
well as the witnesses filed out of the room, and there were no jokes and toasts to fertility and
many children to bless their marriage.

In the morning, Meghianna and Mrillis stood together on the top of the wall over the
fortress gates, and watched as Megassa and Lorkin and his people rode away into the misty
dawn. Neither one spoke, and they didn't move until the travelers had faded from sight. Then
Meghianna turned and walked in silence down the stairs and crossed the courtyard and went up
the private stairs to the family quarters. Efrin and Glyssani sat together in the outer room of their
quarters, curled up together in a wide, low chair, just as silent as Meghianna. The queen had a
colorful bit of embroidery in her hands and Efrin held a scroll in his hand. Meghianna had seen
her father read aloud to his wife on many evenings, while she embroidered, the two perfectly
happy with their simple domesticity. She doubted now that either one had made a stitch or read a
word.

"You will have a son," she said, when neither one looked up at her entrance into the
room. That got their attention. "I have seen it. You will be happy together, many years, and your
son will be the next Warhawk."

"I know you mean to comfort us, Meggi," Efrin said, his voice soft and tired. He tipped
his head down and pressed a kiss against Glyssani's pale forehead. "It's hard to feel anything,
especially the hope you give us. For Megs to do what she did..."

"Consider that perhaps she has fulfilled prophecy, Papa." Meghianna sat down on the
long couch facing them. "Three Drops of Blood, children of the Bloody Sword. Papa has been
called a bloody sword too many times, for all his battles, for anyone not to believe he is the one
named in the prophecy. One shall suffer, one shall wait, and one shall abominate. What could be
a greater abomination than for a daughter to attack her parents, to kill a child? Megassa has
fulfilled her part in prophecy and someday..." She took a deep, sighing breath. "Someday, all
will be well and she will be among us again, and she will defend our brother. And the child she
carries now will be a great warrior, to protect his uncle, who will be a great warrior and lead
Lygroes into freedom and light and peace."

"You have seen this, too?" Glyssani whispered.

"Well, no..." She shrugged, and was delighted to see a flicker of movement, an attempt
at a smile, in the corners of both their mouths. "But I have to believe that the Estall will grant us
joy after our allotted days of sorrow."

"When did you grow so wise?" Efrin said.

"Not me, Papa, but those who went before me." Meghianna blinked hard against more
tears when he smiled and held out his hand, beckoning for her. When she went to him, he
wrapped his arm around her and drew her down into the chair with them. It was a tight squeeze,
three adults, but Meghianna welcomed the warmth and closeness. Even though a memory came
to her, unbidden, of Efrin and Megassa and herself, sitting in the same chair, laughing while
Efrin told his daughters a story before bed.

Nothing will ever be the same,
she mourned, and pressed her face into Efrin's
shoulder before he or Glyssani could see the tears that threatened.

* * * *

News came to Meghianna in the Stronghold the following spring, telling of the birth of
Megassa and Lorkin's son. The passes through the Wayhauk Mountains were blocked three
moons straight, once winter set in. Meghianna had tried several times to contact her sister
through the Threads and the bond of the magic spell that limited Megassa's
imbrose
, but
was always rebuffed. There was no other way to get news of the inhabitants of Lorkin's estate.
She was surprised at the depths of her relief when she heard that both mother and son were
strong and healthy. The boy was named Lok, for Lorkin's father.

The messenger who brought the news from Lorkin's estate had only been gone two
hours on his way back, loaded with gifts and messages from Meghianna, when a rider came to
the Stronghold, bidding her come to the Warhawk's fortress. When Meghianna called Mrillis
through the Threads to ask him if he knew the reason, she was surprised to learn he had been
traveling all the winter--skirting the Wayhauk Mountains, watching for signs of Encindi activity.
He had no more idea than she what had happened at the fortress and with the Court all winter,
and he too had been summoned back, immediately.