“Smile,” he repeated, “not bare teeth at her like the beast you are. Remember the first sight of these green lands. Remember the marvel of water flowing in their wadi, sweet and clean, untouched by acid or poison. Iyeh, that’s it. Whatever she says, smile.”
* * *
HER BLOOD CLOSED UPON HER as fast as they could. All of them moved stiffly, as though breathing still pained them. Likely her Healing had hurt them as much as their injuries, for she’d not spared the flow of power crushing them. She hadn’t dared. Too many of those precious red bonds had wavered like tiny flames ready to blow out.
Dharman reached her first, as she would always expect. He pulled her tight against him, leaving her back for Sal and Jorah both to cover. She leaned against him a moment and gave him a reassuring squeeze, but she couldn’t fall apart yet. Later, in her bed, she would cry all over him and kiss every fresh scar on his body.
He trembled against her, his hand flexing on her back.
Her three lesser Blood were slow to come near. Always the outer ring of defense, they’d taken the brunt of the attack from all sides, yet they’d kept those swords from her downed First Blood and her own body while she’d been trapped beneath him. Although their outer injuries were healed and they no longer bled, Bane could hardly walk.
She went to them instead, her three nearest moving with her seamlessly, although it was rather difficult to walk with three warriors clinging to her. Her left arm still bled profusely from the Black’s mark, so she lifted it to Bane’s mouth. “Drink, na’lanna Blood, all you can hold. It should help.”
Dharman gave the other Blood a steadying hand while he drank her sacrifice. Now that the most severe threats had ended, she let the Silver Lake flow gently through each warrior, seeking any remaining injury or weakness that she could ease.
Fueled by her blood, the last of Bane’s injuries faded until he could stand straight and strong once more. “Last is first this time.” He smiled, although the skin remained tight at his eyes and he pressed his forehead against hers a moment, his proud, strong body shaking against her. “For that alone, it was worth any injury.”
:We must discuss ways to ensure this never happens again.: Shannari used Dharman’s bond, but she felt all nine so strongly in her mind that they all likely heard. :My enemies knew only too well how to strike you all down, and I can’t bear to cause you such agony again.:
:I can provide defense from the air,: the Black Dragon whispered. She had the sensation of a massive beast flopped negligently on his back, basking in the pearly glow of moonlight. :I’ll breathe poison on any who dare come near you.:
She ignored him and tended to the other two Blood, although she knew he must feel the tightening of dread in her stomach and the frantic patter of her heart. Her palms dampened and she touched the black rahke on her hip uneasily. No rahke would drive this beast from her—not when he now carried her bond.
Her father approached, his meticulous uniform torn and streaked with blood and dirt. “Daughter, your allies await you.”
Snow began blowing within her, cold stinging ice of fury. She laughed harshly. “Oh, yes, my allies! Of course, how thoughtless of me to make them wait while I tend to my personal guard who nearly died to the man to save me from my most trusted allies’ deadly schemes.”
Dharman kept her elbow and the two Blood behind her kept a hand each in the small of her back as they glided silently with her. She cast her gaze over the remaining Council and soldiers, taking stock of who still stood.
Phillip trembled violently but he was alive, which surprised her. She’d been sure he was plotting with King Challon. The North Forest and Planzio armies had been completely devastated, not a single forest-green or red-striped uniformed man remained standing. Benton of Far Illione remained as well, but she was nearly as sure that he was involved, if not in this direct plot, then he’d plotted with his son to bring the Keldari influence to her. Percy had been so evil he’d sent her internal alarms blazing with urgency.
:Breathe deeply, brightheart. Give me this man’s scent and I’ll tell you if he’s known to me.:
She felt no deception from the Black, so she stepped as close to Benton as Dharman dared and took a deep lungful of air.
:I don’t know this man, but he’s dressed as a Far Illione trader. I eliminated one like him, the one who brought your message.:
She focused on the Black’s bond, demanding to see the memory of this man he admitted to killing. :You killed a Green Lander?:
She clearly saw Percy in his mind, the curved blade sinking into his abdomen. :Have you killed anyone else?:
:This trader betrayed you, so why should he not die?:
:You gave him the oil, so why should I trust you?: she retorted.
She felt a wave of darkness from him, hunger, fire, blazing skin, dragons entwined and writhing like a nest of snakes, frantic in their mating frenzy. :Did you not enjoy my gift?:
Shuddering, she pushed the memory of blazing, oil-slicked skin away and turned her attention to the men quaking before her. As far as she could tell, the Black Dragon didn’t know Benton, not if he admitted to killing her messenger. Surely if the Keldari savage was able to deceive her, he would have hidden that tidbit to avoid her anger and distrust.
“My Council.” Her voice crackled with ice, sharp with disdain. “My trusted advisers. You swore on the Great Seal to support me as High Queen, to govern Our Blessed Lady’s Green Lands in my absence, and to work for the common good of all. Yet you’ve done nothing but plot to assassinate me in secrecy. When that failed, some of you,” she toed Challon’s dead body, rolling him over with her foot so the others could see the twisted rictus on his face, “decided to kill me openly. You took advantage of enemies from without to kill me from within.”
She smiled, her eyes flaring, and Phillip gasped. He clutched his cheek and blood trickled between his fingers.
:Gently, na’lanna,: Dharman soothed. :Not all are guilty.:
:How can I know?: Despair choked her, even while her fury clawed higher. The White Dragon screamed inside her, stronger than ever. Had the bond with the Black given her Dream even greater strength? :How can I ever trust them again?:
The Black Dragon purred with great enjoyment. Was he smug because she had no one left to trust? Or was he still basking in his victory? She braced herself and dipped her mind into the murky darkness of his bond again. Indeed, the beast sprawled contentedly in her mind, reveling in her blood, but she felt his pain, too. She burned inside him like first dawn through the darkest hour of night, and he drank that pain as eagerly as he’d taken her blood. :There is a way.:
Blood. Of course.
Dharman steeled against her but didn’t make an immediate rejection. She allowed the pros and cons of such a decision run through her mind, letting him watch her thought process. If she had a blood bond with each of her Council, she would know their thoughts and intentions. She would be able to feel their location. After so many years of deliberately trying to lock out her Blood, she could hold these new bonds and ignore them indefinitely…until need drove her to use them and search her Council’s heart.
:I would not give them my blood.:
He relaxed a tiny bit, yet she knew he didn’t like the idea of so many bonds carried within her.
:If my First objects, I’ll find another way.:
His bond melted, glowing as brightly as a smithy’s forge. :Do as you will, na’lanna. I trust you without question.:
“An oath of fealty is no longer enough to hold a seat on my Council. Anyone who wishes to earn my trust and ear, to sit on my Council and advise me on matters of our republic’s security, may offer their blood to me. Know this: if you give me your blood, you give me your heart and most secret thoughts. At my discretion, I will search your heart and soul for any trace of deception, and if I find any hint of Shadow…”
She tapped the hilt of her rahke and her Blood must have done something very similar. Each Green Lander went sheet white.
Phillip whimpered and fell
to his knees. “I’m too terrified of you to betray you, Your Majesty.”
She smiled more genuinely. “I won’t bite you, Phillip. Simply use your blade and make a small wound on your hand. Nothing extravagant or deadly, I assure you. But I will have your blood and your oath or I’ll turn you out of Shanhasson.”
He cut his palm with an awkward swipe, held up his bleeding hand, and averted his face. As gently and politely as possible, she sipped his blood. Her stomach quivered, shocking her so badly that she almost whirled away and heaved. All these years, she’d assumed her thirst for blood was merely proof of the Shadow she carried in her heart, when in reality, the only blood she craved was na’lanna’s.
From day one, she’d hungered for Dharman’s and Sal’s blood. They’d tasted as good as they smelled, where this man reeked of sour fear and sweat, his blood merely coppery and salty in her mouth. She took as little as possible and stepped back, her stomach rebelling. Lady above, how many more would actually offer his blood to her? Could she possibly gag it down? Was it truly worth it?
She hadn’t taken enough of Phillip’s blood to receive his thoughts, but his emotions flickered through the small chain she’d locked upon him. Fear, definitely. The man’s teeth chattered helplessly and he soiled himself. As she filtered through his memories, she clearly saw King Challon’s offer, and Phillip’s tearful and adamant refusal. He’d spoken honestly: he was too terrified of her power to ever risk her displeasure.
One by one, she endured a few swallows of her Council’s blood, until she came to Benton.
Sweat rolled down his face, his gaze flying from her to the Blood to the other pale but sworn Council members, and finally, to the Gates.
“Open the Gates!” Shannari shouted to the soldiers on the wall.
Her Blood immediately pressed tighter, but she calmly walked toward the massive iron and wood barrier as it creaked open. She knew she had blood on her mouth and chin but she didn’t care. She was dirty, bloody, and soul weary, and if these savages wanted to come rushing into Shanhasson on a burning rampage, let them. She’d drown them all with a thought.
They must have seen the power hovering in her and the absolute lack of fear or hesitation in her gaze. As one, the three tals inclined their heads to her, touching their forehead, heart, and mouth while muttering something in their language.
She turned around, deliberately giving them her back. She stared at Benton. “Swear on your blood or leave Shanhasson immediately. Send me another ambassador from your land who’s willing to swear on his or her blood and I’ll accept them in your place.” She raised her voice so that all in the courtyard heard her words. “The North Forest and Pella may send me new representatives likewise, but be prepared to swear on your blood! I won’t be betrayed by my own again!”
Benton broke for the Gates and fled, casting frantic glances back over his shoulder, eyes wide with terror. Some of the Sha’Kae al’Dan began to run him down, the drum of hooves warning her of their approach. She flung up her hands and whirled around. “Let him go. He’s nothing to me.”
Drendon reined his stallion to a halt and dismounted, followed closely by his nine Blood. “Vulkar curse us, have we missed the kae’don?”
She smiled warmly and accepted his hug. “Your timely arrival helped avoid the kae’don entirely. Thank you for coming.”
“Alea would skin me alive if I had but hesitated a single moment. Of course we came.”
He introduced the khuls who rode with him, some she knew, like Lyell, who’d plotted to humiliate her years ago and failed miserably, and Casson, who’d been Rhaekhar’s Second. The warrior who shocked her, though, was Varne.
Why on earth would he come to my call for help? He despises me.
Varne inclined his head stiffly, his face as implacable and stone cold as usual, made even grimmer by the scars she’d left on his cheeks. She couldn’t help the vicious pleasure at the sight of all those deep white scars and his nearly bare braids. The golden rings told her he’d fought in a few kae’don, though for whom she couldn’t imagine.
“Khul, please accept my warmest hospitality. I can’t house all your warriors within the Palace, but certainly your Blood, khuls, and any others you desire may accompany us into Shanhasson. We’ll overflow to the inns if need be.”
“That’s not necessary, Shannari.” Drendon waved his hand above his head and the warriors dispersed, talking and joking among themselves. “Most of our warriors would rather camp outside your Shining Walls to graze the na’kindren.”
Casson stepped forward, his face strained. “Shannari, na’Qwen, our Camp is well.”
She’d never really known Casson; Rhaekhar had led their Camp so well that she’d rarely even talked to the second in command. “I’m glad to hear it,” she said, smiling to ease the tension. “I expect you to fill me in later on who’s been challenging us and whether any new claimings have occurred.”
Drendon slapped the younger man on the back. “Despite Alea’s best matchmaking skills, your new khul remains unmated. Perhaps he’ll find a woman among your outlanders.”
Blanching, Casson stammered a denial, and then nearly slammed his own fist into his mouth when he realized his adamant refusals might insult her.
She laughed softly and quickly assured him. “I know as few honorable outlanders as you, Casson, although I sincerely hope you find a mate who makes you very happy.”
“What of us, Your Majesty?”
Slowly, she turned back to the waiting tals. She quickly glanced at each, unwilling to scrutinize them openly, but she still couldn’t tell one from another. Sandalwood smelled stronger, but it came from all three. He must be deliberately sharing his scent with the others to mask his presence.
Which irritated her to no end. She’d hinted that she could smell him all the way from Shanhasson. Why did it matter if she knew which tal was the one from her Dreams? Did he not hold her bond? Had he not won her blood? Eyes narrowed, she tugged on that black bond in her mind, willing him to betray himself with a sound, a move, but they all three stood silent and proud.
Her gaze lingered on the last warrior. His heavy cloak had fallen about his shoulders, revealing loose hair as black as hers, gleaming with oil in the sunlight. The other tals wore their hair tightly pulled back from their faces in one long braid down their backs. His hair blended with the cape so that she couldn’t tell how long it was exactly, but it looked incredibly soft and shiny. If it smelled like sandalwood…
Unconsciously, she took a step closer. Dharman bumped into her slightly, warning her back and breaking the moment of attraction. Behind her, Sal muttered beneath his breath. “It’s always the hair. I wonder if she’d love me as much if I shaved mine off.”
“You’re welcome to try,” she growled.
Sal laughed and gave a little toss of his head so his blood-auburn hair tumbled over her shoulder.
She fisted her hand in that heavy silk and tugged firmly, drawing a low rumble from him. “You know I’d love you bald, but I’d much rather have your hair wrapped around me at night, if only to annoy Dharman.”
Despite their teasing, the tal didn’t miss that moment of intensity, and his eyes widened slightly. She even thought they lightened a moment, a cast of silver, perhaps? She didn’t dare study him openly, and at her next glance, his eyes were just as dark as the others’. For whatever reason, the Black Dragon wished to remain hidden among his comrades, so she’d play along. For now.
“One of you,” she stared at each tal a moment, letting him feel the pulse of holy water in her gaze, “already bears my bond. One of you already wears my mark in his flesh. One of you is already bound to me heart and soul. If you three and your ravs wish to accompany me to the Palace, I’ll allow it, but no other Keldari may enter the Shining Walls. To cross the Gate without my permission will bring your death.”
“And the challenge?” The middle tal smiled so widely his face must hurt. “Will you allow us to join the Dance?”
“The only tal I’ll discu
ss challenge with is the one who bears my mark.” Her lips curved in a fierce smile just as wide. “He’d better have a care that my Blood don’t carve that mark from his flesh when he approaches me.”
A thought occurred to her that turned her smile of dominance into something closer to seduction, which shook the wide smile off the middle tal’s face. Indeed, all three stiffened expectantly.
This Black held her bond. So she would use it against him.
The black serpent in her mind coiled tighter and hissed warningly.
She lowered her lashes, turning her head slightly away from them, while she remembered the spicy taste of his blood, his thigh gripped in her jaws, the steel of his erection brushing her cheek, the pleasure that had poured through her from his blood alone. Not like her Council, oh no. She ached to taste him again.
The tal with the incredible hair shivered, the black cloak whispering against the grass, betraying his movement.
“The hair,” Sal repeated, shaking his head.
“And the blood.” Dharman stared at the savage, his muscles straining, his stance widening in aggression. “Do you want him now, na’lanna, or later?”
“Later,” she said, shrugging casually, and turned her back on them all. She even managed to smile at Varne, which made the glowering warrior stumble a step. “Or perhaps not at all.”
She started back toward Shanhasson, dismissing the Keldari entirely. A scuffle behind her accompanied a rush of determination through the Black’s bond. He surged toward her, ignoring the rahkes flashing at him, the shouted warning from the Sha’Kae al’dan, and the grim fury of her Blood. She felt each rahke take a piece of him but he refused to stop, and her Blood knew her heart.
They would not kill him, not unless she wished it, and Lady help her, she didn’t wish him dead.
Shannari didn’t even turn around, but when his hand landed on her shoulder, she whipped the white rahke back into his groin. Panting, he pressed against her back despite the blade she held, fully prepared to gut him as she’d done to Theo. The tal’s scent rolled over her, burning sandalwood and blowing desert sands, his hair heavy and soft with oil.
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