The Second God

by Pauline M. Ross

  But at least he was still alive, I told myself. For a little while, he was still with me.

  ~~~~~

  The Kellon was remarkably relaxed about having a captured byan shar and his mother dumped on him without notice, not to mention an injured mage. He shooed Cal off to be tended, despite his protestations that he was fine and just needed to rest for a while.

  “Rest in the infirmary, then, where my own surgeon can examine you,” the Kellon said firmly. “I am sure that Lady Mage Kyra has healed you splendidly, but it never hurts to have another opinion on an injury. The guards will carry the injured woman there, and you can go too. And the rest of you,” he added, gesturing at Krant and Harbrondia. “So many mages! You are making our Clan visitors nervous.”

  Grumbling, they went.

  “Now, Most Powerful,” he said, turning to me. “Tell me what you need for our guests.”

  He listened to my terse explanation without comment, produced a dozen burly guards at a stroke, and found a room in the guest hall with wooden walls and a small balcony, not too intimidating for the two of them. At my suggestion, he had beds made up on the floor, with furs for them to use instead of blankets. He even dredged up an interpreter, which was a relief to me. It was slow work, talking by way of Arran’s limited translation skills. Servants produced soup and cold meat and bread.

  Then we left mother and son alone. In my own room, I reached for Pay’s mind. She was very anxious, which was natural, but I needed to know what she and Sho were doing. Could I look through her eyes, as Ly could? It was easy with beasts, but people were a different matter. There was palpable resistance before the room suddenly popped into view, showing me Sho sitting slumped on the floor. Pay prowled around examining everything in the room, sliding open drawers, lifting cushions and looking into closets. She clucked, and I read annoyance in her mind.

  “What is it?” Sho said, looking up with sudden interest.

  “Nothing. Nothing at all. No tricks, no traps, even the food’s good.” She lifted a lid from a dish on the food tray, and slammed it down again. “They’re being very kind to us.”

  “And they’re helping Jes. That’s good, isn’t it?”

  “Who knows? I don’t know what they want from us.”

  “They don’t want me summoning, only him.”

  “Yes, but what else? What are they going to do to us?”

  He rubbed his eyes. “Don’t know. Can’t think about it.”

  “We must be very careful what we say to them. Ancestors, you’re so pale, my son.” She rested a hand on his forehead.

  “I’m really tired…”

  She fussed around him for a while, arranging the bed, and he went straight to sleep. Pay was in bed not long afterwards, and there was nothing more to be learned from them.

  The whole time, Ly was summoning. This was a less difficult affair than his previous summoning, when he had targeted war-beasts from all over the Clanlands. This time, it was just the lion-guard, and it would only last for a few hours, since they were already nearby. If I stretched out my mind, I could see them moving towards him, some on the island and others emerging from the black-bark forest and then swimming across. There seemed to be scores of them, but I knew – through memories again, presumably – that only some would be chosen. I had no idea how he would choose, though. Ly’s blood hadn’t given me that memory.

  On the island, I could follow the beasts well until they passed beyond the wall, and then everything became blurred. I could barely connect with the lions, and although I was able to detect Ly’s presence, I couldn’t see through his eyes. It seemed I wouldn’t be able to watch the blood-bonding ceremony at midnight.

  The Kellon hovered, fetching me wine and plying me with sweetmeats.

  “Don’t let me keep you,” I said to him. “You will want to have your evening board, I expect.”

  “Will you not join me, Most Powerful?”

  “Thank you, but I will have a tray of food here. I can keep watch on our guests.”

  He regarded me thoughtfully. “If you will permit the impertinence, I am not sure it is wise for you to be alone. These are momentous times, and perhaps a little company to support you would be helpful? Shall I send for your mother? No, I daresay she is occupied in the infirmary. But your sister, perhaps? Lady Scribe Sallorna will not be far away, I am sure.”

  I smiled at him. “You are kind, but I’m not alone.”

  He looked around the room, seeing no one, but he forced a smile. “As you wish, Most Powerful. A steward will be stationed outside the door, should you need anything, anything at all. The meagre provisions of my hall are entirely at your disposal.”

  “You are very generous, but I have everything I need. Thank you for your efficiency, and also for asking no questions. I appreciate your forbearance more than I can say.”

  “Ah, Lady, the benefits of being the youngest in a family. I long ago learned to jump when ordered to, and not to ask why. It is a skill which has stood me in good stead over the years.”

  His eyes twinkled, but, much as I liked his good humour, I wanted to be alone. It seemed an age before he reluctantly withdrew, and I could talk peacefully to Arran for a while, a small pleasure in a difficult evening.

  Ly came back long after midnight, his hand bound and his face deathly pale.

  “It needed more blood than I had imagined,” he said, slumping down the wall to the floor, his eyes closing from weariness.

  “I’ll send for some soup,” I said.

  “No, I want nothing. Just rest. So tired.”

  Then he lay down and was asleep in moments. I dragged pillows and blankets from the bed and curled up beside him, helplessly wishing there was something I could do. I took his hand, and he murmured something, half turning towards me. Eventually, I slept, too.

  ~~~~~

  I woke late, to the steady presence in my mind of Arran, so far away, and Ly, mere paces from me. He was sitting, feet up, on the window seat, his mind busy, as it so often was now. Watching Sho and Pay, perhaps, motionless not far away, and also tracking his lion guard, already on the move.

  When he saw I was awake, he held out his hand to me. “Come and sit with me, my wife.”

  I climbed onto his lap, and he laughed and nuzzled my neck.

  “How are you this morning?” I said.

  “Better. Much better. The steward brought me some porridge, and there is brew ready for you on the burner.” With one hand, he pulled my head closer for a long kiss.

  “You are feeling better this morning,” I murmured.

  He smiled, and stroked my cheek. “Everything went well. It could have turned out very badly, but it did not, and now I am back in control. It made me realise that I have not always appreciated you as I should. We need to enjoy these quiet moments more, and not be constantly worrying about the next step.”

  “I have no objection to that,” I said. “Is this a roundabout way of saying that you want to go back to bed for a while?”

  That made him laugh out loud. “Not until Arran wakes again and we can be sure it is a good time for him.”

  “It’s not like him to sleep so late,” I said, fretful suddenly.

  “He was awake earlier, and we talked. But he is quite down about things, have you noticed?”

  “He has not been given any food for a couple of suns,” I said. “The quantity was dropping off before that, but just lately, there’s been nothing. He still has a little water left in the last flask he was left, but he has to be very sparing with it. So he told me last night.”

  “Hmm.” Ly was silent for a long moment. “That is not a good sign,” he said at length, and in his mind I saw mingled fear and sorrow.

  “We must hope for the best,” I said, in as cheerful a tone as I could manage. “It seems a little perverse to keep a hostage to deter us from attacking and then starve him to death. So I’m assuming it’s an oversight, or some complicated way to pressure him to do… something.”

  It sounded flimsy, even
to my own ears, but the alternatives were far worse. I dared not follow that line of thought, or I’d give way to grief entirely. For Arran’s sake, I had to be strong now.

  “What happens next with your lion guard?” I said, to distract myself from such dark thoughts. There was a group of lion riders moving to the east, but where they were headed I couldn’t guess.

  “It will take a moon for the bonding to take full effect,” Ly said. “I am sending them to the eastern border to start with, and when I see which have taken well to the bonding, I will choose some to send south to Shannamar.”

  “To take part in the fighting there?”

  “Perhaps, if the Speaker asks for war-beasts, but mainly to convey messages. I will leave some at Kingswell, for Yannassia’s benefit, and the others will be at Greenstone Ford and perhaps Rinnfarr Gap. That way, everyone will know exactly what is going on everywhere.”

  “So are we going to Greenstone Ford, too? Or back to Kingswell?”

  There was a long silence.

  “Ly?” I said in apprehension.

  He sighed. “You must go back to Kingswell, I think, to ensure our captive stays out of trouble.”

  My stomach knotted with sudden fear. “No! Don’t leave me behind!”

  “It may be necessary. We are not just fighting an army here, Princess. If that were all, the armies of Bennamore and the Port Holdings and the Clanlands would be more than sufficient. But we are up against a god. A man who can generate a windstorm can devastate our troops in a heartbeat. The only chance we have is if I can use god-powers, too.”

  “Lightning.”

  “And mist, yes. But I have no idea how, and we have so little time left to us for me to find out. But Sho’s stupidity has given me some breathing space and I must use it to best advantage.”

  “Where can you find out?” I whispered.

  “That I do not know, not for sure. But lately, ever since someone mentioned the Wild Hunter Clan and my father, he has been on my mind, and in my dreams, too. The answer is there, I believe.”

  “Then will you—?”

  Arran woke abruptly, with sudden nervousness. Looking through his eyes, the cell was still blacker than darkmoon, but there were noises beyond the door, voices and keys rattling. Then light, as the heavy wooden door creaked open. Outside a torch flickered eerily. Arran raised a hand to shield his eyes from the unaccustomed brightness. A guard pushed into the room, set a tray on the floor and slid it towards Arran, with a waft of fresh bread and something meaty.

  “Thank you,” Arran said. “Thank you very much.”

  The guard grunted, and was gone. The door slammed, the keys clanked, silence fell. Arran was back in the dark again, but he was elated.

  “Drina? Did you see that?”

  “There, you see, they had just forgotten you,” I said to him. “What is it, stew?”

  “I think so.” There was burning heat on one of my fingers, making me yelp, as he dipped it into the bowl. “Ouch! Hot, too. This is the first hot food I have had. And the bread is soft. Oh, there is another flask of water, as well. So they have decided not to starve me.” A pause. “Not yet, anyway.”

  “You are no use to them dead,” I said briskly.

  “Not much use alive, either,” he said, and I could have wept at the heaviness in his tone.

  ~~~~~

  Ly and I spent the morning with Pay-hoom and Sho-heest. They were subdued, and a little jumpy, so we took them up to the roof where the eagles were. There was a view across the lake, placid in the weak sunshine, with smoke rising from the Clanfolk’s trading village. A few war-beasts moved about nearby, but the great numbers called by Sho’s summoning had dispersed, vanished into the black-bark forest. Perhaps Ly could detect them in there, but they were out of my range.

  Settling on the ground with his back to the parapet, once he had reassured them that Jes was making good progress, Ly questioned Pay about byan shar powers. As an elder, she had full access to the memories of her own Clans, inherited from her father and mother, but there were gaps, it seemed.

  “I don’t know much about the god-powers.” She glanced at Sho, cross-legged beside her, head slumped. “We’ve talked about it, but I suppose we’d assumed it would just happen when he achieved his full power. But not to you?”

  “No. I don’t know whether it’s something that is available when needed, or whether there’s another growth period necessary, or whether I have to do something to acquire it.”

  “There are so few byan shar,” she said softly. “We know so little, and my memories aren’t much use. My Clan history is all farming and a bit of tame hunting. I really don’t know how I can help you.”

  “I have been thinking of my father lately,” Ly said. “I’m wondering whether his Clan could help.”

  She brightened. “Of course. He’s Wild Hunter, isn’t he? They’ve produced more byan shar than any other Clan, and they’re so close to Dragon Mountain, they have many elders. You would certainly get some useful memories from them.”

  Ly sighed. “That is what I was afraid of. I’m needed here to help with the war, but I must do everything possible to develop god-powers first. I suppose I shall have to go and find my father.”

  “Alone?” I said. My heart turned over. Arran locked away, and now Ly was going away from me.

  “You are needed here,” he said in Bennamorian. “No one else can do what you can to control our prisoner. You must take him to Kingswell and keep him tame. Do not let him escape or start another summoning, or I shall be forced to kill him and we may yet have need of him. And when the fighting starts, you must be near the Wind God to counter his storms. I would a thousand times rather have you with me, especially with things how they are with Arran, but we must do what is best for Bennamore now, and our friends at the coast. We will still be together, Princess. We can still talk.”

  “It’s not the same,” I said softly.

  “I know. But you are Yannassia’s heir, and you have the strength in you to do what is needful. Here…”

  He unfastened the amber necklace and slid it over my head, so that it hung heavy round my neck. I felt the tingle of magic as it came to rest against my skin. Ly blocked my view of Pay-hoom, but I heard her intake of breath.

  “Now you are officially my deputy,” Ly said. “This strengthens everything that passes through you, your communication with Arran and me, your bond with any of the beasts, anything we do together. The Clanfolk will obey you as they would obey me, and you will also be able to compel them, as you have seen me do.”

  “Don’t you need it?”

  He shook his head, smiling. “My power no longer needs strengthening. Besides, I can draw on it even when you wear it, should I need to. I can still feel it through you, so long as you wear it next to your skin. Do not hesitate to use it if you need to. The compulsion – do not attempt it with the boy-god, for he cannot be compelled, but his mother can.”

  I wrapped my hand round the amber, feeling the magic deep within it. Ly’s magic, Clan magic, so different from Bennamore’s.

  “What are you doing?” Pay hissed, her anger twisting her face. “You should give that to Sho. He is byan shar, it is his, you know this!”

  “He has not yet earned it,” Ly spat back. “If he behaves well, and does everything my wife tells him to do, then in time, when he is stronger, I may permit him to wear it. And if he wishes to earn it sooner, he must aid us in the war.”

  Sho looked at him, puzzled. “You want my help?”

  “The gods chose you for a reason, Sho-heest, and I believe you were chosen to help me. You have already proved your value to me, inadvertently, by summoning the lion guard just when I needed them. But if you wish to be more than a prisoner, you must commit yourself to supporting me, freely and wholeheartedly, through the coming war.”

  36: Preparations

  “I do trust you are not planning on marrying this one, too, Drina,” Yannassia said. “Because we have laws about that sort of thing.”

&nbs
p; It felt like a long time since I’d heard anything to make me laugh. Weighed down with worries and bereft of my two men, I wanted nothing but to curl up into a ball and pretend none of it was happening. When I was a child, that was very much what I’d done, taking to my bed with a book for whole suns at a time, and in the summer dozing under the pear trees in the garden, listening to the bees humming, my fingers digging into the soil for that tiny buzz of magic. When I’d first moved to Kingswell, I’d made myself obnoxious in every possible way so that Yannassia would tire of me and send me home. I’d even flooded the Keep, once, when some mischief got out of control.

  But even I’d had to grow up eventually. Denying the reality of my situation only made it more difficult to deal with. Pretending the bee isn’t there doesn’t avoid the sting. So I’d brought my captives to Kingswell, as Ly had wished, leaving Jes behind in the mages’ care, and settled them into Ly’s old apartment. It was still fitted with all the necessary locks and guard posts, and he no longer needed it, since he would share my rooms when he returned. If he returned, that is. I don’t know why I was so gloomy, but my heart told me to fear the worst.

  That last night with Ly, I don’t think I’d slept at all. I never wanted it to end. He’d been with me for more than five years, and although he wasn’t Arran – there would never be another Arran – he’d grown on me. Pity had turned to liking and then, in infinitesimal stages, to something that could only be called love. Since Arran had been lost to me, I’d clung to Ly as if he were the only piece of flotsam in a swollen river. He’d kept me steady and sane and optimistic.

  Now he was calmly leaving me to travel alone to the far side of the Clanlands, to mountainous terrain so remote that it was on no maps and had no name in Bennamorian. Ly called them the Wild Hills, which did nothing to reassure me. I’d clung to him in desperation, too miserable even to cry, and he’d kissed me and made gentle love to me and told me he loved me in two languages. And in the morning, he’d summoned Diamond and flown away from me.