by D. L. Carter
“High Lord, I would be delighted.” Mitash rubbed his hands together. “It has been my life's ambition to create disorder and mayhem.”
When Mitash had departed, Eioth kissed Halidan and held her close.
“And you, dear Halidan, rest yourself. Tonight we shall try the posture for Rite of Spring Rising. It is supposed to quicken the earth for planting.”
“But, we can't do any magic,” protested Halidan, pulling away. “And, anyway, it isn't spring.”
“Did I say magic?” Eioth grinned. “I simply want to try that posture. Have you not seen it? It requires that we go into the garden at midnight, our skin naked to the stars and moon and make love upon the warm earth. I shall scatter flowers to be your bed and my body shall be your blanket.”
“It is beyond my understanding that all you can seriously think about tonight is bedding me.”
Eioth considered the comment, his head tilted to one side, then he pulled Halidan into his arms.
“Halidan, there is not a moment of the day when I do not want to bed you.”
Halidan's body warmed and melted as he kissed her, which was, she knew, his intention. With another kiss, Eioth departed.
How quickly she had become accustomed to Eioth's passion. To the touch of his hand, the warm demand of his mouth. And she would miss it like a lost limb if it were ever taken away from her.
She wandered from room to room unable to settle to any task. There was no doubt Eioth was interested in proving her theory true. No doubt at all that he wanted to father a child. And he said he wanted to father that child on her. That was reasonable. It would not be wise to contract a marriage and then find out the theory was false. It might take a few years, given how few moon-long breaks there were between Ritual obligations, for a pregnancy to occur. When the time came that the theory was proven, there would be celebration and at the same time she was certain that it would eventually begin to work in Eioth's mind that he could do better. What if Halidan had a child that had no magic? It was possible. Federan being of Master rank with all the Elements despite being half blood might be an aberration. As High Lord of the North West, Eioth should have a magically talented heir!
A full blood wife would increase that likelihood.
She tried to summon anger for his presumption that she would permit him to change their agreement, again, and have him use her body to create his child, but it was not there. Instead, there was nothing but an ache, the painful awareness that she might not fulfill his need. A child. His child. Her heart ached as she spread her hands over her belly.
When had his desires so taken over her heart and why did she no longer grieve for it? Where was the anger that he had stolen her skin?
Was she so weak that she would give up righteous anger so soon?
She leaned against a wall, her eyes pressed shut. Even so, tears trickled down her cheeks.
She loved him. The painful truth was she loved him enough to want her theory to be correct, to give him the children he desired.
She loved him enough to forgive his mistakes and arrogance and to stay beside him. Live with him.
Halidan sank down on a window seat and stared out onto the forecourt. Eioth would be a good High King if only the Synod could see sense. A far better King than Chandri ever could be.
If Chandri's plot succeeded, then one could hope that the King who followed Chandri would have the skills to fix the problems that arrogant idiot was certain to leave behind him.
And Chandri having only daughters, when the girls were found, would have to find husbands for them. Prince consorts would hope to have considerable influence over a High Queen. She was certain that all the High Lords were making plans based on that same assumption. The ongoing search would be intensified to an amazing degree with all the unmarried males in the Empire searching for the lost girls.
And with so many searching, why hadn't they been found?
The scrape of shoe on stone alerted her to the arrival of the House manager. Jendi stood in the doorway, frowning.
“Will either you or the High Lord be coming to dinner tonight?”
Halidan glanced toward the window. The long summer twilight had faded into full dark. No wonder Jendi was unhappy; dinner had been requested for the seventh hour and now it had to be well after that.
“I do not know. The High Lord went to his study,” said Halidan.
“And does not answer a knock,” said Jendi.
Halidan rose, slowly, and shook out her skirts.
“Please send a servant up with dinner on a tray. The High Lord and I will dine in his rooms and then everyone may retire for the night. It has been a long day. I have no expectation that we will need anything more.”
Jendi bowed herself out of the room and Halidan followed, walking slowly as if to a doom instead of the arms of her lover.
Two burdened servants joined her before she reached Eioth's chambers. It was Halidan herself who knocked on the door and she who opened it when there was no reply. Eioth was seated, a thick tome open on the reading platform, examining piles of paper scattered across a broad table. He started when Halidan entered, then came to his feet smiling.
“Dear Halidan, why come you here?”
“My L . . .” She stopped at his frown. “Eioth, you cannot go without food.”
He made no protest when she directed the servants to set up their meal on a nearby table and dismissed them as soon as it was done.
“I have been thinking,” he began.
“So have I,” said Halidan, gathering her courage. “I think it would be best if I returned to the House of your demesne and continued working on your library.”
Eioth ignored her comment. “Do you trust the healer who supervises Tribel's care? What was his name?”
“Lenneth? Certainly. At least, I heard no wrong of him and he is a powerful healer. I have seen him render someone unconscious or remove their pain with just a touch of his hand.”
“Excellent.” Eioth's expression brightened at that news. “By your own hand I want you to send a message to him. Request he travel as fast as possible to join us here.”
Halidan stared at him in confusion. “Why do you need him? If you are ill, you should use one of the healers here! It will take time for the message to reach him. The journey here took us four days.”
“Do not worry. I am not ill. I only wish to ask him a question.”
“And can wait eight days for an answer?”
“We were traveling at an easy pace. A fast messenger can be at Gentle Waters within a day and with sufficient incentive, Lenneth will travel back just as swiftly.”
“Very well,” Halidan crossed to a writing table and was not surprised to see ink and paper were set out and ready. “May I give him some idea of why I am sending for him so urgently?”
“Tell him you suspect you are pregnant; that will bring him fast enough.”
Halidan stopped, pen hovering over the page. “But, I am not!”
“True, but if the Elements are kind you soon will be.” Eioth crossed to stand behind her. “It is all very well to have suspicions, but I wish to discuss your theory with a Water priest. There might be records that can be reviewed, histories within the order that hint at the true purpose of the Bachelor's Moon. We can but ask. Also, before I do any magic I wish him to examine me and determine, if he can, if my fertility has returned. Or is returning.”
“I suppose.” Halidan lifted the pen and paused, the tip above the paper. “Eioth, I do not think it wise to delay the search for Chandri's children. You may say that the Empire can survive having Chandri as High King, but I fear the repercussions. If he gains the throne through such a transparent deception will not some other Lord turn his thoughts to wresting the throne from him with another? We could create a precedent that will destroy the Empire.”
“Halidan, be comforted. The Empire is stronger than you imagine. If nothing else, the common people, by demanding that every day they have food and drink, and peace in which to enjoy t
hem, will force any High King to do his best in their service.”
“But . . .”
“No, Halidan,” he ran his hand over her head, ruffling the short ash hair. “On this subject I shall not be moved. Chandri's plan will take some time to come to fulfillment. As of this moment, it is not yet fully revealed. We can be patient and permit him his pursuit of rank, for now. There are very few times during the year when I have a full moon with no obligations and I am not prepared to waste this chance.”
Halidan drew herself away from his touch.
“Even though I have not yet agreed to bear your child?”
Eioth sighed. “Yes, yes, again I am cruel and inconsiderate, rude and unkind. Again, I have changed what is expected of you. But,” he moved closer, running his fingers down the side of her face, “does this displease you so much? Have you not said you love me? Do you not wish for my child?”
Not all her will was sufficient to prevent her from placing her hand on her belly, fingers spread protectively over where a child would rest. Eioth moved to embrace her, one hand placed warm and possessively over hers.
“Dear Halidan,” he whispered, his breath warm against her neck sending shivers across her sensitive skin. “Can you not imagine how much I desire a child of yours and mine? A child with your will and strength. Your compassion and wisdom. A child to inherit all that I hold. I cannot wait until I hold the fulfillment of our passion in my arms.”
“And if the child has no magic?” Halidan attempted to pull herself away. “You have many responsibilities, High Lord, not the least of which is restoring the numbers of High Magic practitioners for the Empire. Not even love is a good enough reason to waste yourself, your heritage, creating a child with a mortal!”
“You are mistaken, Halidan.” Eioth released her and stepped away, walking back toward his desk. “You surprise me. At this moment you sound more like my father than any other. He was the one who valued purity of blood. He despised and disdained the Low Court Elves and mortals of the Empire even though they are the majority of those who live within its borders. I found his prejudice impossible to tolerate and I will not accept the same from you.”
Halidan could not think of an answer to that charge and stood still and voiceless in the center of the room.
“I have work to do, Halidan. I must find a spell, some means to search out the children of Chandri, but be certain of this, I shall cast no spells until a full moon has passed. I need Lenneth to come and test us before I do any magic. If he tells me my fertility is returning, it is entirely possible I shall decline to do magic until you have quickened. Be very clear in your understanding of this, Halidan. I count a child, our child, more important than the throne.”
Halidan's hands clenched and she stared at the floor.
“Do you not love me, Halidan?” asked Eioth, his voice softening. “Can you not bring yourself to desire my child?”
The breath she drew was ragged. “I must count the Empire as greater than my own wishes.”
“No, my little one. No.” Eioth came and took her in his arms, rocking her gently even as his hands stroked over her head and down the length of her curves. “We see the same problem from different sides. It is a difficult balance to reach. The Empire is made up of men and women . . . and children. We cannot have one without the other. Therefore, I tell you I value you and the child we will have as equal to the Empire. No, not equal. To me, you are more important. If the price I need pay for you to be happy, for us to have a child, is never doing magic, again, I would pay that price and gladly, for I love you, Halidan.”
“You cannot say that,” cried Halidan, struggling free of his embrace and bursting into tears. “No. I will not be responsible for that.”
Before he could move to prevent it she fled the room slamming the door behind her. The sound of her fleeing steps echoed down the corridor. Eioth stood where he'd been left for a moment before returning to his desk. A full hour passed before he reached again for the books he had been studying. For the remainder of the night, he worked seeking a spell that would give him all that he desired.
The missing children.
Halidan.
And, since in the dark of the night he would be honest, the throne.
The next morning, after a solitary and sleepless night Halidan was trying to settle to some form of work when yet another summons came to attend the Synod. Eioth carried the message into Halidan's room himself.
“By whose command is it sent?” asked Halidan.
“Who else?” Eioth raised a scroll decorated with a now familiar sigil. “Chandri wishes to apprise us all of the progress of the search.”
“How very kind. He may send us a message when the girls return,” said Halidan stiffly. “You need not give him more consequence by obeying his summons.”
“An action that will leave us in ignorance,” replied Eioth, in mild tones. “He is well aware of the power of curiosity. We shall go, since I am a Lord of the Synod and do not wish to take the chance that some other matter be put to the vote and not be there to make my views known.”
Halidan's eyes widened as she considered the possibilities and Eioth nodded.
“Exactly so,” he said. “But, we need not go at once. You are correct. It is not good for Chandri to become overconfident. I believe I shall send swift messengers to Senoia, Adarh and Trevan. The lack of a quorum is a tool we can use against Chandri, just as he used it against us.”
Halidan smiled. “You are truly evil, Eioth. No doubt Chandri has a rhythm and pace to his plan. If you refuse to come at his command he may lose momentum.”
“And we pass another day waiting until I can perform magic.”
Halidan's smile faded and she glanced away, not seeing the shadow that passed over Eioth's face at her withdrawal.
Messengers traveled back and forth between Eioth's House and Synod Hall for the rest of the day. Eventually, Eioth sent back his consent to appear in the morning.
There was no interference with their entry into the hall the next day and once in Synod Hall, the division between the Lords was immediately clear. Instead of taking their places on the compass, Trevan and Senoia waited beside Eioth's chair.
Chandri, pale and dressed in mourning clothes entered with his supporters trailing in his wake. His daughter's portraits were carried by servants of Synod Hall, who were also dressed in mourning.
Senoia growled at the sight.
“Now what is he up to?” she demanded. “The girls’ deaths gain him nothing.”
“Patience,” whispered Eioth. “I doubt very much that the girls are dead.”
It was a work of a few minutes for the servants to raise a shrine to the missing children beside Chandri's chair. Once that was done, Chandri descended, again, to the foot of the throne where he stood, silent, head bowed, until he was certain that he had everyone's full attention.
“Two days have passed and still my children have not been returned,” he said in a voice so soft it was necessary for his audience to strain to hear. “I begin to fear that finding them is beyond the power of our guards.”
The chief of the city guard bridled at that, but did not speak in his own defense. Chandri continued, raising his head so all could see his grief raddled features.
“Where are the heroes of old? Where are the truly powerful on whom we once relied to satisfy those needs beyond the abilities of ordinary men?”
“I have it! I have finally worked it out,” cried Trevan, reaching out to slap Eioth's arm. “Our Chandri believes that the search for his daughters should constitute a trial! That the one who found his daughters should be acclaimed High King as a reward for his labors.”
Senoia snickered from Eioth's other side and several of the minor Lords in the audience burst into outright laughter.
“Makes a change from dragon hunting,” cried Senoia.
Chandri went ice pale.
“And what is wrong with this concept?” he demanded in a more ordinary voice. “Do you think a hero who
found my children would be unworthy of the throne?”
“Heroes are interesting fellows to be sure,” said Senoia, “but one doubts that the ability to track and hunt automatically bestows upon the hero the skills necessary to rule.”
“Those hunting at the moment are all of High Court status,” replied Chandri. “Some even claim blood ties to past kings.”
“Everyone is searching,” muttered Halidan.
“Some more than others,” said Trevan, pressing fingers to his own chest. “Myself, I am related to three of the last five Kings, but you do not see me advancing my cause in such a gross manner. To endanger the lives of your own children in such a manner? Repulsive idea.”
“I have already sworn, I have no idea who has taken my children.”
“And yet, you are ready with your plan and speeches, your . . . ” Senoia waved her hand toward the door of the chamber, which was crowded with onlookers. “Your spontaneous crowds clamoring for the guiding hand of a High King, when your children are conveniently kidnapped.”
“Come, Chandri,” said one of his supporters. “They see clearly your plan.”
That he spoke, and said what he had, caused all heads to turn. Was one of Chandri's friends betraying him?
“What plan is this?” asked Chandri, in such formal tones that Halidan's hackles rose. He sounded exactly like an actor in a bad play.
“That you intend to raise yourself to High King after your kidnapped daughters are returned.”
“How would I cause that to happen?” replied Chandri, spreading his empty hands. “It is far more honorable that I should offer the hand of my eldest child to the person who rescues her and together they should rule.”
“You think we, overcome with astonishment with his skill and daring, will offer him the crown?” cried Trevan. “Do you think that a treasure hunt with your daughters as the treasure is a task worthy of a Royal Trial?”