"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. T
here 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.
She detoured on the way to the Warhawk's fortress, so her path and Mrillis' intersected and they rode three days together. She was gratified to learn that he had been just as concerned about Megassa's welfare during her pregnancy, immured in the Wayhauk Mountains, cut off from all help. Rumors he had picked up from travelers coming out of the mountains indicated Lorkin had a massive building project underway, constructing roads and watchtowers, to increase the safety and ease of travelers and make it possible for travel and communication and the transport of supplies even in the worst winter conditions.
They talked of many things during their journey, but even in their most private communication through the Threads, they didn't speak of the reason why Efrin and Glyssani had summoned them. Meghianna didn't let herself hope that they wanted to discuss ending Megassa's exile. The wounds were still too fresh, even for her, even after a winter of silence and missing her sister and hearing her voice wailing in the winds off the Northern Sea.
There was only one reason she could think of for Efrin and Glyssani to summon them with no word of explanation, and Meghianna knew better than to think of it, lest some of her guards and the few ladies who attended her and knew her so well would read it in her face.
Efrin waited for them when they rode through the gates that rainy gray afternoon, and he laughed aloud when they lowered their hoods at the same time and he saw they had arrived together.
"Of course," he said, gesturing for them to dismount. "Where else would you two be but together?"
"Where else?" Mrillis murmured with a sardonic lift of one eyebrow and one corner of his mouth. He dismounted first and held up his hands to help Meghianna down. "It seems we have been paired for eternity."
"Is there something wrong with that notion?" she asked, fighting not to laugh.
Mrillis did laugh, tipping his head back and letting the sound ring across the dripping wet courtyard. Efrin just crossed his arms and shook his head, grinning despite the impatient tapping of his foot.
"You were this way as a boy," Mrillis said, as the three climbed the private stairs to the family quarters. "Bursting with some good news, determined that no one was going to hear it until you had everything arranged just so."
"It's your own fault," Efrin retorted. He paused as they reached the landing and he pushed the curtain aside to go through into the hallway. "You taught me the advantages of presentation and appearances."
"Hmm, true." He pretended to scowl.
"You're entirely too pleased with yourself, Papa." Meghianna shook her finger at him, and was delighted when Efrin grinned, turned smartly on his heel, and sauntered down the hallway ahead of them. The last time she had seen her father, he had been entirely too somber. It was good to see him in high spirits again. Now, if Glyssani reflected those same high spirits, she could count the long winter of solitude and study and prayers well spent.
Glyssani waited for them, looking flushed and breathless and glowing with excitement. She held out her hands, beckoning Meghianna to her almost before Efrin had closed the door of the suite--effectively locking out the servants who lingered suspiciously in the hallways.
"I know you've already guessed," the queen said, her voice rich with laughter. "Tell me I'm not imagining it." Then she guided Meghianna's hands to rest on her belly.
Meghianna blinked, and found herself kneeling, lost in a haze of fading, brilliant light. Her hands still rested on Glyssani's belly. Mrillis' arm tight around her held her upright, and her father clutched both her arm and Glyssani's hand. Meghianna would have laughed to see her father torn between both of them, but she still felt dizzy and breathless.
"What did I say?" she whispered, and her h
ead pulsed with one aching throb when she turned it to look at Mrillis. The last time she had felt this way, when she touched Glyssani, her overheard words to her sister had resulted in the siege of Tantagar.
"The third drop of blood has come into the world," the enchanter said. He drew her closer against his side, standing and helping her get to her feet.
"I'm sorry, Meggi," Efrin said. "If we had known--"
"How could anyone know? I should know before anyone else." She tried to laugh, but her head still ached a little. She was grateful when Mrillis helped her settle on the long couch facing the others. "He will have enemies before he is born. I'm sorry, Papa, but I think we must deprive you of your son for several years, until he is able to defend himself."
"Better for a little while than forever," he said, nodding, his voice a growl of grief. "Where will you take him? The Stronghold?"
"That would be too obvious a place for our enemies to look. And my brother will have enemies strong in magic, who might risk everything to reach into the Stronghold to find him." Meghianna sighed as the last throb of ache turned into weariness in reaction to the draining of the vision. "This is horrid. We should be celebrating, not planning something we will not need until several years from now." A tiny chuckle escaped her, startling the other three. "I will not take a teething or unweaned child into my care, no matter how precious he is to the Estall's will and his plans for the World. When he is five or six, that is plenty of time to whisk him away into hiding, thank you very much."
"Five years," Glyssani whispered. She nodded, and managed a brave smile. "I will have him for five years. Oh!"
"What, love?" Efrin wrapped his arm around her shoulders, drawing her close against him. Panic touched his eyes. Meghianna remembered that Glyssani's miscarriage had started with a few soft pains.
THREE DROPS OF BLOOD Page 27