White Blood

by Holder, Angela

  “I understand, your Highness.” Maryn kept her voice level. “It’s not so bad, not when I want to obey anyway. Only—if I might be allowed to think for myself…”

  “I can do that.” Carlich moved with his usual surety to open a neat slice in her skin and wave his hands through the familiar motions of the spell. “There. Do what I tell you as usual, but you may think whatever you wish, and speak freely to me when no one else can hear.”

  Even under the effects of Siwell’s spell Maryn could feel the difference. The effort of fighting his magic for control of her mind vanished. She felt more clear;-;headed than she had since Carlich first cast his spell. She didn’t have to fake the relief in her voice. “Thank you, your Highness.”

  Carlich regarded her with a little half;-;smile. “Go on now. Get Frilan—I mean Barilan, of course—ready to show Voerell. We ride in an hour.”

  “Yes, your Highness. I’ll be ready to act at your command. And I’ll pray to the Holy One for your success.” Maryn curtseyed deeply and turned to go. Carlich strode back to the mirror and scowled into it.

  Maryn hesitated. She hated to leave without knowing whether Carlich would ever eat the porridge. From what he’d said, he probably wouldn’t. Since he’d given her permission to speak, maybe she could risk giving him a nudge in that direction without rousing his suspicion. “Aren’t you going to eat your breakfast now, your Highness? As your servant said, you need all your strength today.” She picked up the bowl and carried it to him. “Nothing must interfere with your ability to stand against Princess Voerell and work the magic you plan.”

  He grimaced. “I never have any appetite before a battle.” But he accepted the bowl, though he only poked at the porridge with the spoon.

  Maryn gave her voice the warmly affectionate scolding tone her mother had always used on her. “Do you think you can breathe in sustenance with the air? The Holy One has given us the great blessing of his bounty; we shouldn’t let it go to waste. Eat!”

  Carlich grinned crookedly at her. “You remind me of my nurse.” He scooped up a small blob, stuck it in his mouth, and made an exaggerated swallowing motion. “There. Happy now?”

  Maryn wanted to break into a broad grin, but she contented herself with a little severe smile. “Very good, your Highness. Now take another bite.”

  Carlich waved the spoon at her. “Stop it. You sound exactly like Kegill.” He shot her a teasing smirk. “Do all wet nurses receive the same training in bullying their charges?” He scooped one more spoonful into his mouth before setting the bowl down on a nearby chair. “Go on, go on. I promise I’ll be a good boy.” He shooed her away, chuckling, until Maryn couldn’t help but grin in return.

  As soon as the tent flap closed behind her, the smile fell from Maryn’s face, and she gave her head a hard shake. Sometimes Carlich acted so charming she doubted herself. It was easy to see why people liked and trusted him, and why so many were willing to answer when he called.

  Could she be wrong? Maybe Carlich really would rule Milecha better than Voerell. Kings had to be ruthless, didn’t they? They couldn’t always abide by the rules that governed ordinary folk, not when the fate of their kingdom was at stake.

  Maybe she could go along with his plan. If she demonstrated her loyalty in a convincing enough fashion, Carlich would defy Vinhor and keep his promise to protect her. She and Barilan would be safe. She tightened her arms around the baby. She’d never have to give him back to his mother. She’d never again risk being dismissed from her position as his nurse. Barilan would be hers for good. Maybe he’d be happier growing up as her son, never knowing who he really was, far away from the dangers and burdens of the Kingship. Why not let Carlich take those on himself if he wanted them so much?

  The waiting guard escorted Maryn back to her tent. Everywhere she looked she saw soldiers strapping on armor, stringing bows, and sharpening blades. Carlich’s army blanketed the fields all the way to the horizon.

  Maryn set about changing Barilan into his most ornate gown. She considered her options. When Carlich signaled her, she could do as he’d asked and raise the shout of acclaim. It wouldn’t bring him the Kingship, but with the people’s support he might very well defeat Voerell by force of arms anyway. Perhaps she could risk working another illusion spell and make the crown appear over Carlich’s head, so he wouldn’t discover her deception. Carlich would believe her loyal to him and provide for her as he’d promised.

  Or, when the time came, she could instead denounce Carlich as loudly and forcefully as she could. Maybe enough people would hear and believe her to make a difference, before Carlich silenced her. If her ploy was successful, King Froethych’s spell would protect her from him. Maybe it would buy her a few more minutes to declare the truth. Maybe she could sway the balance and Voerell could triumph.

  But if Voerell failed, and Carlich won the day despite Maryn’s best efforts, he would know she’d betrayed him. Then nothing could save her and Barilan from his fury. It would be easy enough for Vinhor or someone else to kill them, even if Carlich couldn’t give the order.

  Was she willing to risk herself and Barilan for such a small chance of saving Milecha from Carlich? Or would she take the safer route and sacrifice her homeland?

  Maryn gathered Barilan in her arms and pressed her face into the top of his head. Would it really be that bad if Carlich became king? Could she honestly condemn his actions, or would she have done much the same in his place? Maryn, too, had been tempted to kill. She knew what it felt like to want something so badly all other considerations faded away. She’d surrendered to that temptation, at least a little, at least enough to weaken her resolve to fight the compulsion spell. Maybe everyone could be bought, if the price was high enough. Maybe Carlich was no worse than anyone else.

  No. Somewhere Carlich had crossed a line most people didn’t. Maryn thought of him crouched over his brother as Marolan choked out his life. She remembered the rage in his eyes as he’d threatened her and the speed of his hand striking toward Barilan. She recalled the eagerness in his voice as he’d offered her Frilan’s soul in exchange for Barilan’s.

  How could she support that, even if she was just as guilty? How could she help him take power, even if she could buy her own safety and Barilan’s by doing so?

  She couldn’t. She would have to take the riskier path and pray that Voerell was strong enough to defeat her brother.

  Maryn was only a servant, only a woman, weak and insignificant. It was ridiculous presumption for her to think anything she could do would hinder a powerful man like Carlich. The chances were vanishingly small that her attempt would work.

  But her resolve was clear. If she could stop him, she would.

  Twenty

  Maryn caught sight of a cloud of dust on the road ahead. She straightened in her saddle, watching. As the cloud drew closer, she made out a cantering horse with a fluttering white banner streaming over its back.

  Carlich shaded his eyes against the glare of the early morning sun and studied the approaching rider. He turned to Tennelan. “Voerell’s sent a herald to answer me. Give the men a rest break while I confer with him.”

  Tennelan saluted and wheeled his horse. He rode back toward the ranks of troops, calling orders. Men thronged the road as far as Maryn could see, professional soldiers in disciplined straight lines interspersed with peasant levies in ragged blocks. There had to be thousands of them.

  Carlich kicked his steed into a trot, and the rest of his immediate company followed. Maryn clutched Barilan and clung to the pommel of her saddle as her palfrey stretched its legs to keep up with her guard’s mount.

  The herald reined in his horse as Carlich drew close. “Your Highness!” he called. “Regent Voerell has sent me to inform you that she accepts your request for a parley.” He dismounted and dropped to one knee.

  Maryn’s horse slowed to a walk and halted close behind the prince’s steed. Carlich swung down and took the roll of parchment the herald offered, gesturing for the man to rise. Ma
ryn strained to hear what they said. The more she knew of what would happen when they reached Loempno, the better prepared she’d be.

  Carlich unrolled the parchment and scanned it. “Hmm. Looks like she’s offering the standard terms. I wouldn’t have thought my little sister familiar enough with military matters to know what they were.”

  The herald ignored the insult to his mistress. “Your Highness, the regent instructed me to emphasize that she will only consent to meet if King Barilan accompanies you, alive and unharmed.”

  Carlich waved expansively toward Maryn. “There he is. I’m happy to agree to her demand. You can tell her you saw Barilan yourself, fat and happy.”

  The herald walked toward Maryn’s horse. Maryn held Barilan up. He was in a good mood, waving his arms around and making cheerful noises. The jewels on his gown sparkled in the sunlight.

  The herald studied him gravely for a long moment before nodding. “I will convey your agreement to the regent.”

  Carlich held up a hand. “Wait. This section is not acceptable.” He jabbed a finger at the parchment. “My men must be able to see me and hear what I say. There’s no need for a bowshot of clear space around us. I’ll ward the area against weapons, and Voerell can have Rogelan do the same. That was always standard practice when we met with the Hampsians.”

  The herald inclined his head. “The regent agreed to negotiate any terms save the one I specified.”

  “And here. What’s she thinking, putting us down in a hollow? There’s a nice little hill about a quarter mile from the gates. From there we can each address our troops. Vinhor, fetch your clerk so he can write all this down.”

  Vinhor came forward with his brown;-;robed clerk, who set to work transcribing Carlich’s counter-proposal. Vinhor leaned close to Carlich and murmured in his ear too quietly for Maryn to hear. Carlich listened, then nodded. “Good point.” He turned back to the herald. “I require at least ten guards be allowed to accompany me inside the wards. Of course I’ll agree to Voerell bringing a similar number if she wishes…”

  Maryn shifted in the saddle. The negotiations over minor details seemed likely to go on for some time. She cleared her throat to get the attention of the guard holding her mount’s lead rein. “Excuse me, but Barilan’s diaper needs changing. May I dismount so I can take care of it?”

  The guard looked at Carlich, who remained deep in conversation with Vinhor and the herald. “I suppose,” he said, scowling. Though Maryn had done her best to make friendly overtures, the man had remained curt and hostile during the whole journey. He displayed greater impatience every time he was required to keep watch over Maryn as she tended Barilan’s needs. Maryn hadn’t even been able to learn his name.

  The guard glanced around. Suddenly his scowl was replaced by a broad grin. “Hey, Tior! Get over here. I’ve got a job for you.”

  Tior bounced up on the back of a horse as short and round as he was. “Yes, sir?”

  “Take the nurse over there and help her with the king’s diaper.” He sniggered, then opened his eyes wide and gave his voice a broadly exaggerated tone of solicitude. “Oh, dear. I forgot all about your little—problem. A stinky diaper might make you lose your breakfast. Should I get someone else to do it?”

  Tior kept his face and voice expressionless, though Maryn saw his fingers tighten on the reins. “No, sir.”

  “Get to it, then.” The guard settled back in his saddle, a mocking smile returning to his features.

  Tior swung down from his horse and tossed the reins to the guard. He held Barilan while Maryn dismounted and grabbed her saddlebag. Together they hurried off the road. Maryn went as far as she dared, aware of the guard’s watchful eyes on her back. She found a level patch of grass and kicked at it to make sure no rocks or sticks lurked, then knelt, spread out her skirts, and laid Barilan down on them.

  Tior cleared his throat. “Should I get out my handkerchief?” He nearly succeeded in keeping his voice light.

  “No, he’s not messy, just wet.” Maryn busied herself unfastening the cloth and digging in her bag for a clean one. She spoke quietly. “Any chance to run, do you think?” If she could bring Barilan to Voerell and let the princess know he still held the Kingship, she could weaken Carlich and gain a refuge for herself and Barilan at the same time.

  Tior looked across the rolling fields to where the rooftops of Loempno were visible in the distance. “We’d never get there before they caught us, even if I could get my horse. He’s slow.”

  “I didn’t think so.” Maryn’s voice shook. “I guess I’ll just have to go through with my plan. Listen, Tior. I need you to help me. I’m going to denounce Carlich, as loud as I can. When I do, he’ll try to stop me. I worked magic so he can’t hurt me himself, but Vinhor can, or anyone else. If you could stop them, if you get the chance, or at least slow them down…” She swallowed.

  “Of course,” he assured her. “I’ll be ready. Whatever you need.”

  “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Maryn bent to her task.

  Tior scuffed at the dirt with his foot as Maryn finished fastening Barilan’s diaper. She scooped the baby up and straightened. Before she could head back, Tior put out a hand and touched her arm. “Maryn…Did you really tell me the whole truth? Because everyone around camp is saying you saw Priest Vinhor work a spell to remove an illusion from Barilan. That he never inherited the Kingship after all, and it was all a trick by Princess Voerell. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t trust me. If you thought you had to lie to get my cooperation. But I can help you better if I know the truth.”

  Maryn grabbed his hand. “Of course I told you the truth.” She couldn’t help but respond to the lost, hurt look in his eyes with compassion. But at the same time, impatience flared. How many times was she going to have to coddle him through another crisis of confidence? He was her only ally; she had no choice but to depend on him. But what if he lost heart at a crucial moment?

  She shook her head and pulled her hand free to rub her temple. “I tried to start a rumor that Vinhor had created an illusion to hide Barilan’s Kingship, but that stupid girl got it all wrong. Everybody’s saying it? That means they’ll all be ready to believe Carlich when he tells them Barilan isn’t really king.” She fought back tears. “What if I can’t stop them, Tior? What if no matter what I say, they acclaim Carlich anyway? Will they even realize when Vinhor’s spell doesn’t work to give Carlich the Kingship? It won’t take a glowing crown over his head to make them willing to fight for him. It will be all my fault when he defeats Voerell.”

  Tior stared at her. “Wait—you think Carlich’s going to try to take the Kingship for himself, by acclaim?”

  “I’m sure of it. He told me so himself. He wants me to start the shouting when it’s time.” Maryn shuddered. “He promised to protect me and Barilan, if I do. But I won’t! Even if I can’t stop him, I won’t help him!

  “But Barilan is really still king, right?”

  “Of course. Carlich thinks he’s not, because he believes I worked the magic to switch his soul for Frilan’s. I did magic to hide the crown when they scried for it. But the Kingship is still his.”

  Maryn didn’t understand the excitement that lit Tior’s face. “But that’s perfect!”

  “What?”

  “Don’t you know? If Carlich tries to make himself king while Barilan still holds the Kingship, the magic—it will kill him.” Fearful awe tinged Tior’s words.

  Maryn gaped at him. “Kill him? How? Are you sure?”

  “That’s part of the magic of the Kingship. It protects itself from being stolen. They taught the recruits all about it when I joined the army.”

  “Carlich knows?” Even as she asked, Maryn realized that he must. That was why he and Vinhor had been so determined to make sure Barilan was no longer king before setting their plans in motion.

  “He would have to. So all we need to do is keep quiet. Or you can even start the shouting, just like he wants. Then when he tries to take the crown�
��”

  Maryn’s breath quickened. “He’ll die.”

  Tior nodded.

  Maryn pressed her face into Barilan’s hair, breathing deeply, trying to come to terms with the rush of conflicting emotions this new information triggered. Carlich would fail. She wouldn’t have to do anything else, persuade anyone to believe her, work any more magic. What she’d already accomplished was enough. One cry of “King Carlich,” and she and Barilan would be safe. Milecha would be saved. She had worked so hard and so long for that—could it really be so easy?

  She should be overjoyed, and joy was certainly a part of what she was feeling. But she’d never dreamed, when she’d worked the magic to hide Barilan’s Kingship, that her actions would result in Carlich’s death. She’d never imagined that she would be in a position to kill anyone. Even Carlich. Especially Carlich. Even if he deserved it, even if it was his own greedy ambition that would doom him, not her choice. Could she begin the shout that would invoke that magic, knowing what it would do?

  She’d have to. This was the opportunity she’d prayed for. “Come on.” Maryn set off back toward the cluster of horses and people. “It’s more important than ever that we don’t do anything to arouse suspicion. Can you stay close?”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to do.” Tior trotted to keep up with her. “I’ll ask to guard Carlich during the negotiations. Everybody will want to be picked for that, but Captain Tennelan is good about rewarding people who’ve been willing to take the dull jobs.”

  “Good.” Maryn glanced at him, doing her best to smile, though it was shaky. “Thank the Holy One you told me. I was determined to do whatever I could to stop people from acclaiming him.”

  “I didn’t realize you didn’t know, or I would have told you before.”

  “Anything else I should know?” Maryn shivered to think that everything might turn on some bit of information about magic or the Kingship that she’d never had the chance to learn.