“Aliens from the Above?” Maeve offered. “Go on, you can say it.”
“Uh … yes.” Mizar shuffled his feet. “King Aridor is trying desperately to save everything he is pledged to protect. In the space of mere days, all he's ever known has been turned on its head. Female Wielders, mystical Stones …” He grinned again. “And aliens from the Above.”
“Like it or not,” Maeve said, “this is how it is now. Aridor's not the big fish in the little pond anymore. He has to accept that, or we're never going to get anywhere.”
Mizar chuckled. “ 'Big fish in a little pond'?”
“It's an Earth saying,” Maeve said, stifling a chortle of her own.
“I like it,” Mizar said, and his face became stern again. “I know His Highness may come off rather brusque, but believe me, that's nothing compared to his father. If it were Armak inside that tent instead of Aridor, he'd be less immovable than Mount Calabur. You can thank Belena that Aridor is as receptive as he is.”
“Belena?” Nyla asked.
“His wife, the Queen of Darad. She's advocated a more liberal attitude towards our female citizens almost since she and Aridor were wed. That he's come this far is a testament to her influence.”
Maeve quirked an eyebrow. “I like her already.”
Mizar stepped forward, spreading his arms. “Rest assured, I will continue to counsel him as the face of our world changes. He'll come around.” He gestured back at the tent. “Shall we resume?”
Nyla's fists clenched, and she gritted her teeth. “If he calls me 'child' one more time, I'm burning that tent to the ground.”
Mizar folded his hands inside the sleeves of his cloak, and bowed. “Consider him duly warned.”
* * *
Aridor rolled up the map they'd been staring at for the past hour and handed it to Harg, the captain of his personal guard. “So we're agreed?”
“We are,” said Maeve, turning to Eloni and Liana. “Councilors?”
“Yes,” Liana agreed. “We thank you for your offer of protection, Your Highness.”
After what had been a stressful morning, Maeve felt a weary smile break through. A similar one came over Nyla's face as well. Regardless of what happened from here, the Ixtrayu would be safe.
King Aridor also smiled. “You have my word, Councilors, my men will not breach the confines of your village without your explicit permission.”
Eloni straightened herself up to her full height, a full foot shorter than Aridor's. “I think, if the Protectress were here, she would find this arrangement satisfactory as well.” She faced Nyla. “And by the will of Arantha, she will soon be back among us.”
“Damn straight,” Maeve said. “I regret that we cannot accommodate your men within the village, Sire, but after the attack, we don't have much food to spare.”
“Understood,” Aridor said. “As soon as I return to Darad, I will arrange for a large quantity of food and water to be delivered here. Neither the Ixtrayu nor my men will starve if I have a say in the matter.”
Liana and Eloni, seemingly satisfied, bowed and left the tent.
“Maeve,” Mizar asked, “how much time do you need before we can depart?”
Maeve pulled out her pad, checking the time again. “Not long. I informed the huntresses who will be accompanying us to be ready to go at a moment's notice. The same goes for Yarji and Zarina; their Wielding abilities may be invaluable. Apart from that, I'll need to fire up the Talon's engines and plot a course. Several courses, actually. If all goes smoothly, we should be able to leave before sunset.”
“Excellent,” Aridor said. “I must admit, I'm looking forward to seeing inside your vessel.”
The look of childish delight on Aridor's face elicited a laugh from Maeve. He looked like a little kid about to take his first space-tunnel ride. She absently stuck her right hand in her pants pocket, where her fingers contacted something small yet hard. Grasping it, she pulled it free and offered it to Nyla. “Here,” Maeve said. “I think it's time you put this on.”
Nyla's eyes widened. “My mother's necklace?”
Maeve nodded. “I fixed the clasp. She'd want you to wear it.”
Nyla took the necklace with a stifled sob, laying it lovingly over her palm.
Kelia had told Maeve that Nyla gave her this necklace as a gift when Nyla was only six years old. It was simple in design, a thin leather string which featured six beads, three on either side of a small lump of yellowish-brown, lustrous metal held in place by a metallic setting. Kelia had worn it during the attack on the village, but the fastening clasp had been burned through by Elzaria's lightning.
“Thank you, Maeve,” Nyla said with a sad smile. “Would you …?” She held it out to Maeve.
“Of course.”
With Aridor and Mizar watching, Maeve took the necklace and gently placed it around Nyla's neck, snapping the clasp shut with a satisfying click. Nyla backed up, centering the metal lump that hung over her sternum. “So?” she asked, her face seeking approval.
“Perfect,” said Maeve, smiling.
Aridor's smile disappeared, his face scrunching up in a puzzled frown. He took a step forward, his eyes fixed on the lump of metal that now dangled from Nyla's neck.
Nyla stiffened up at the tall king's sudden scrutiny, but held her ground. She stood still as Aridor leaned in for a closer inspection.
He met Nyla's eyes while pulling the glove from his right hand. “May I?” He pointed at the metal nodule.
“I … guess,” Nyla said, failing to hide her apprehension.
Aridor leaned forward again, grasping the metal between his thumb and forefinger. After several moments, he straightened up. “Where did you get this?” he asked in a tone that Maeve could only construe as fascination.
“It … it was a gift from my grandmother Onara to my mother. It was the last thing she gave my mother before her death. I think it came from Lake Barix.”
“Lake Barix?” Aridor queried. “I've not heard of it.”
“It's in the Kaberian Mountains, two hours' ride south of here,” Nyla said. “I've never been there, but the tribe's gatherers go there all the time. They say there are many tunnels and caves in those mountains, and the walls are covered in this,” she indicated the lump around her neck.
“Many tunnels?” Aridor echoed, his eyes widening. “Covered in this?”
“Sire?” Mizar asked, placing a hand on the King's arm. “Are you all right?”
A smile appeared on Aridor's face, which soon stretched from ear to ear. “I'm far more than 'all right', Mizar. This,” he gestured at Nyla's necklace, “changes everything.”
“What are you talking about?” Maeve asked, suddenly curious.
Neither man responded. Mizar stepped toward Nyla, studying the object that had so captured the King's attention. “Great Arantha,” he whispered, his eyebrows disappearing into his hairline.
“Excuse me?!” Nyla shouted. “Will someone please tell me what's going on?”
“Forgive me, ch… Nyla,” Aridor said, catching himself. “Do you recall what I told you after our first meeting about Darad's problems with Viceroy Callis?”
“Not really,” Nyla admitted.
“I do,” Maeve said. “You said Barju was the main source of machinite ore, from which Darad creates most of its weapons and armor.”
“Not the main source, the only source,” Aridor corrected. “And now that Viceroy Callis has dissolved the treaty between our countries, the shipments of machinite have ceased, which means our armorers and weapon-smiths would be forced to work with inferior materials. No doubt the Viceroy expects me to come crawling on my hands and knees, ready to pay any price.” He chuckled. “Guess the last laugh belongs to me.”
“Are … are you saying this is machinite?” Maeve asked.
“Yes,” Mizar confirmed. “And it's nearly pure.” He turned to his king. “There could be enough ore in those mountains to serve Darad's needs for centuries.”
“Indeed,” Aridor sa
id, laying a hand on Nyla's shoulder. “Nyla, I sincerely apologize for my earlier behavior. There is no longer any doubt in my mind that this development is the work of Arantha. I do not have my High Mage's gift for prognostication, but I would venture that what happened here, today, is only the beginning of the relationship between Darad and the Ixtrayu.”
“First things first,” Maeve said, interjecting some urgency into the conversation. “We can talk about mining rights and whatnot another time. For now, we have a war to win, so let's get our tails in gear.”
At that moment, a commotion from just outside the tent drew their attention, punctuated by shouts in a very familiar voice.
Davin.
Maeve sprinted outside to find her son on the ground, his hand twisted behind his back by a burly guard. Without breaking stride, she slammed into the guard, knocking him off his feet. “That's my son! Keep your hands off him!”
The man reached for his sword, but Maeve was quicker. She drew her short sword from her belt, pointing it at the fallen guard. “Don't even think about it.”
“Stand down, Bigon,” Aridor said, joining the standoff.
Immediately, the guard climbed to his feet and bowed his head. “Yes, Sire,” he said, then resumed his post at the tent's entrance.
Davin, too, had picked himself up, brushing grass from his pants. “What the hell, Dav?” Maeve asked, sheathing the sword. “You can't just come barging in unannounced like this! Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
Brushing his long, curly red hair back behind his ears, Davin took several deep breaths before speaking. “Sorry, Mom.” His eyes locked onto Nyla, who had also exited the tent. “It's just …”
“Just what?” Maeve said. “What's happened?”
“I got a message,” Davin panted, “from Dad.”
Maeve felt her throat constrict and her guts clench. “What did he say?”
Davin, still catching his breath, broke into a ragged smile. His eyes hadn't moved from Nyla. “He told me how to win the game.”
Queens (The Wielders of Arantha Book 2) Page 45