The Lion Returns f-3

by John Dalmas

  Shamans had been legalized. "Most of them," Wollerda added, "aren't very effective. But the poorer of them soon find business sparse, and profit slight from the puny fees they can get. But even the completely bogus sometimes effect cures by belief."

  Macurdy turned to Liiset, who looked as young and beautiful as ever. She was a member of Varia's clone, and the resemblance was uncanny, even with their differences in aura. "And what's the state of the Sisterhood?" he asked.

  Her eyes met his mildly. "Let me call Omara," she replied. "I get reports by courier, and make occasional trips to the Cloister, but she is Sarkia's executive officer."

  "Omara is here?" Even as he spoke, Macurdy realized his response was giving away his feelings for the healer. But his aura would too, and Liiset wouldn't miss it.

  "For a week," she answered. "She arrived this Three-Day, to initiate our children in the next stage of magicks and healing. She's considerably more advanced than I. And more fully informed of Sisterhood affairs. She'll be pleased to see you."

  In minutes, Omara arrived from her quarters, smelling of fragrant soap. "My apologies," Liiset said, "if we interrupted you in your bath."

  "I was done with it," Omara answered, with the calm that Macurdy remembered. "I was preparing to meditate." She turned, her gaze absorbing him. "Hello, Macurdy," she said, "it is very nice to see you again." He wondered how much she read in him. With her powerful talent and broad experience, surely she saw more deeply than Liiset or himself when she looked at an aura.

  Only then did she give her attention to Vulkan. As hugely conspicuous and out of place as he was in the royal drawing room, she had not been distracted by him. "I was informed you were here," she continued. "I am Omara, as you have deduced, but I do not know your name."

  ‹I-am Vulkan.›

  Macurdy wondered if the others had caught how impressed the great boar was. "We're traveling together," Macurdy said. "I think of him as my tutor."

  Liiset broke in. "Curtis asked how things stood in the Sisterhood. You may have information I lack."

  Omara took a chair unbidden, as someone treated by the royal couple as a peer. "Why don't you begin," Omara said. "I can expand on it later, if appropriate."

  Liiset nodded. "As I indicated, Sarkia still lives. Once decline sets in, it is rare for death to hold off as long as a dozen years. Nine or ten is typical. With Sarkia it's been eighteen, thanks to Omara's powers and her own strong will. She still has not chosen a successor, though she'd like to, and most of us feel serious concern over what might happen if she dies without naming one.

  "In that case Idri would probably be the new dynast. She no longer hides her desire and intention, though she knows she's unpopular with the Sisterhood. She's spent most of her life making enemies. I'm one of the few she likes and treats with respect, and one of still fewer who feel affinity for her. But I recognize her unfitness to rule."

  Frowning, Macurdy broke in. "Then who supports her? Even if Sarkia decreed her to be the new dynast…"

  "The Tigers. The Tigers support her."

  Macurdy frowned. "The Tigers?"

  Liiset nodded. "Sarkia gave Idri authority over the breeding and training of Tigers. That was back when you were still here, on campaign in the Marches, actually. Before Sarkia began her decline. Idri had failed at every other command assignment she'd had. I suppose Sarkia hoped this might be one she could manage. At first it was a secondary responsibility, but Idri turned it into her principal one. She quickly began building their numbers as rapidly as she could, while seducing, politicking-conquering so to speak-key Tiger commanders. And saying the right things to make herself popular with the entire corps.

  "Their numbers did not-could not-increase rapidly, of course. It takes the better part of twenty years to mature and train a Tiger, and fewer than one in three of us are suitable mother stock for them. Fewer than one in ten are prime mother stock. So from the very start, Idri used her influence to shorten the resting periods between litters by prime mothers. Which increased not only the number of Tiger births, but the number of potential prime mothers born. And of the other suitable mother stock, she convinced Sarkia to increase the number of Tiger breedings. Which wasn't popular with Sisters, of course, but very popular with Tigers.

  "Today there are hardly any more fully trained Tigers than when she took command of them. "But there are far more Tiger youth in training. And this year will produce the largest number of completions ever, fully trained and ready. Next year, completions will be higher again. And so on."

  Macurdy interrupted. "What does the King in Silver Mountain think of all these Tiger companies within the boundaries of his kingdom?" The king was Sarkia's landlord, the Cloister existing on land he'd leased to the Sisterhood. To Macurdy it had always seemed an odd arrangement, considering the reputation of the dwarves in general, and certainly of the King in Silver Mountain.

  "Apparently it's not a problem," Liiset said. "In fact he doubled the lease holding about the time you went back to Farside.

  "The increase in Tigers and Tiger young puts stress on the Sisterhood though. Our trade has to support them along with the rest of us. Fortunately Tigers are shorter lived. Which they resent of course. Not one has ever survived to a normal decline. Normally some vital organ, usually the heart, burns out after forty or fifty years, and they die more or less quickly.

  "Idri wants us to hire out Tigers as mercenary units. But Sarkia is smart enough to see the temptations and problems that would lead to, so three years ago she drastically reduced the breeding intensity. Meanwhile we have to support the offspring of fifteen years of intensive breeding. And in eight years we'll have double the present number fully trained and ready."

  Liiset looked knowingly at Macurdy. "You see what Idri has in mind, of course."

  Macurdy nodded. Sarkia could hardly survive much longer. Any day could see her dead, naturally or otherwise. Then Idri would declare herself dynast, and intensify Tiger breeding again. She'd rent out Tiger companies, undertake alliances with ambitious kings, then try to take over the Rude Lands. And if she got away with that…

  He looked at Omara. "What do you think of all this? What are her chances?"

  As always, Omara replied calmly and concisely. "For becoming dynast? It approaches certainty. Unless Sarkia appoints someone else-someone formidable-to replace her, and then resigns. Overall, the Guards still outnumber the Tigers, and they too are excellent fighting men. Some Guard clones are equal to Tigers in most respects; your own two sons by Varia are examples. But all in all, Guards companies fall short of Tiger companies as fighting units. How short is not clear, but few guardsmen match Tigers in strength, speed, or endurance. The Tiger advantage in tactical and personal skills is less clear, but they do nothing but train. Guard units have numerous other duties."

  "And," Liiset broke in, "our Guard units are dispersed. We have a platoon at every embassy in the Rude Lands, the Marches, and the ylvin empires. And a squad or more at each Outland craftworks, where there's not an embassy at hand."

  Embassies even in the empires! Macurdy was impressed. Probably, he thought, Cyncaidh had had a hand in that.

  "That comes to nearly two cohorts," Liiset went on. "But only three companies are kept at the Cloister, not nearly enough to discourage a takeover by Idri.

  "It's doubtful that Idri can go far with her ambitions, which I'm sure include conquests. But what she can do is create a shambles among the kingdoms and destroy the Sisterhood."

  Macurdy nodded. Perhaps self-destruction was the destiny of the Sisterhood, but it would be a tragedy to see peace destroyed in the Rude Lands.

  The Sisterhood, Liiset continued, had changed in other respects as well. Sarkia had married Sisters to every royal house in the Rude Lands-to the king or crown prince or both-with the single exception of Kormehr. Two had even married into royal families in the Marches. Those Sisters bore their children to foreign kings, children raised and trained at home. Thus the loyalty of the Outland queens to the Sisterhood w
as diluted.

  The Sisters serving in Outland embassies and craftworks also came to look at the world and the Sisterhood with different eyes and minds than those remaining in the Cloister. To reduce this, for years Sarkia had rotated staff members every year or two. Only the ambassadors themselves had longer tenures. But she'd decided the returnees corrupted those who'd never been away, so now she mostly left them in place. She called them home mainly for breeding, and while in the Cloister, they lived apart.

  "We've become a Sisterhood divided," Liiset finished. "There is now an Outland Sisterhood, and a larger Cloister Sisterhood. The latter tending to resent the former, but somewhat contaminated by them."

  She gestured. "Omara is an exception. That Sarkia trusts her absolutely, I do not doubt. And despite Omara's role in keeping her alive, she sends her out for three or four weeks at a time, to investigate or handle Outland situations. Of the Outland queens, I seem to be the most trusted. Ironically enough, this is probably because Idri and I get along."

  Liiset paused thoughtfully. "But of us all, Varia is Sarkia's favorite."

  She caught Macurdy's surprise. "Decline has changed Sarkia greatly," she said, "in almost every respect. She has had to make many adjustments, and has made them well. When you knew her, she was strong willed and highly intelligent. But impulsive, sometimes destructively so, and slow to admit mistakes, even to herself. In decline she has grown honest with herself, and added wisdom to her virtues.

  "Her great regret is having driven Varia into exile. She admires her above any of us. Varia the runaway, Varia the defiant. She truly grieves losing her. She has told me so, and her aura supports her words.

  "As for Idri-" Liiset paused again. "Idri she neither admires nor trusts. She does, however, love her, and feels guilt for Idri's failures.

  "Idri, on the other hand, hates Sarkia. Hates her, and in her way loves her, I think. And despairs of ever pleasing her. Emotionally they're thoroughly entangled." Liiset shook her head. "Don't ask me to explain it.

  "But there is nothing ambivalent about her hatred of Varia. As girls, Idri and Varia were favorites of Sarkia. They'd vied for an executive apprenticeship in the dynast's office. Varia's virtues were talent, intelligence, and judgement. And good intentions. Idri's were energy and decisiveness. And ambition. Thus Sarkia chose Varia, and Idri never forgave either of them. Then, after a year in the apprenticeship-a successful year by all reports-Varia was sent to Farside to marry your uncle. Why her, I don't know. Bloodline perhaps."

  She turned to Omara. "Do you have anything to add? About any of it?"

  "Perhaps after further thought," Omara said, "but not now."

  Throughout Liiset's exposition, Wollerda had said nothing. Now he spoke. "Then maybe it's time to end this conversation. We can take it up again in the morning. Our guests have had a long day; I suspect they'd like to rest. And Vulkan's supper has been delayed too long."

  Vulkan voiced neither agreement nor disagreement, but Macurdy said that he'd already had more than enough to think about.

  Earlier, Wollerda had sent a page with a royal order to have a sheep taken to a drill ground for Vulkan. Now Macurdy went with the giant boar, guided by a palace guardsman. They waited while Vulkan ate, not a pretty demolition. Then the boar was shown to a shed newly bedded with fresh clover hay, while a stableboy, looking ill, cleaned up the dinner mess.

  Macurdy asked Vulkan if he'd prefer to be let out of the palace for the night. Vulkan said the shed would be fine. ‹I can wander widely enough in the spirit,› he added.

  Macurdy wondered what that would be like.

  ***

  After supper, Macurdy was invited to bathe with Wollerda and Liiset. The drill was a little different than it had been years before. Perhaps, Macurdy thought, because he hadn't bathed for several days, and then only briefly, in a river. Or maybe his bloodstream still held vestiges of the wild leeks of Miskmehr. At any rate, after being shown to his room, and offloading his personal gear there, he was taken to a small room off the royal bath, where there was a wash bench with basins, buckets of hot water, and a bowl of soap. There he and Wollerda soaped up and rinsed off.

  Then they went into the bath together. It had the same large round tub he remembered, sunk half into the floor. Liiset already sat up to her shoulders in steaming water. Macurdy pulled his glance away. Not that he could see all that much, and what he saw was distorted by the water. But he knew what she looked like-incredibly lovely-because she was one of Varia's clone-mates. Their auras were different, but physically they were virtually identical. And eternally twenty, as he was eternally twenty-five. Or if not eternally, close enough by human standards.

  He wondered what Pastor Koht would say about that, or about this group bath.

  After the two men got settled in the tub, Macurdy asked Liiset what she'd heard about Varia lately. It proved to be not very recent, but had probably not changed. Gavriel was emperor, and Cyncaidh his chief counselor. Though Liiset didn't say so, Macurdy suspected that Varia was Cyncaidh's close confidante, sounding board, and unofficial advisor. They lived in the capital most of the year. And they'd had a second son, who Liiset said was a teenager now.

  "Do they seem to be getting along?"

  She looked knowingly at him. "Presumably. Selira is Sarkia's ambassador there, and sees them from time to time at official occasions. And Selira reads auras very skillfully; all the ambassadors do. She'd be aware if anything was substantially wrong. And being Varia's clone-mate, I've asked to be kept on the information line."

  He nodded absently. It was what he'd expected, and it seemed to him he should be glad. For Varia and Cyncaidh. But he'd nurtured a hope, small, perverse, and mostly suppressed, that Cyncaidh had reached decline, and that Varia would soon be unattached.

  He wondered, then, about his sons by Varia, sons he'd never seen, who were claimed and held by the Sisterhood. He would, he promised himself, meet them, even if it required visiting the Cloister.

  ***

  After his bath with the royal couple, Macurdy was given a bathrobe, and went to his room. His grungy fatigues had been taken away for laundering. He was about to go to bed when someone rapped on his door. He knew who it had to be, and put his bathrobe back on. "Come in," he called.

  It was Omara who entered, as on his last night at the palace, those long years before. Her gaze was unreadable and steady, as always. Besides a high level of the "ylvin talent," her aura showed intelligence, honesty, calm strength, and light sexuality. And an abundant sense of responsibility.

  "Have a seat," he said, gesturing at a chair, then sat down facing her. "You came here to tell me something, or ask me something."

  "I have come to ask when you intend to leave. And for where."

  "Tomorrow after lunch, or possibly the day after. Depends on what comes up when we talk in the morning. As for plans-Vulkan and I will go north. To see Varia and her ylvin lord."

  "Ah." Macurdy knew from the way she said it that she'd half expected that answer. She paused, then went on. "Sarkia tells me things she tells no one else. She trusts me not to repeat them, and I don't. This evening I will make an exception, because if she knew you were here, she would want me to. And it becomes urgent because you plan to visit Varia.

  "Sarkia admires you, Macurdy, admires you greatly. Even knowing your dislike of her. And she believed, had faith, that you would someday return to Yuulith. She is very feeble now, weighs no more than a child, and sleeps sixteen hours of the twenty-four. Her only exercise is to shuffle around her room, leaning on a small chair with wheels, a nurse on either side. She receives three oil rubs each day, to stimulate circulation and prevent bed sores.

  "She clings to life only because of her concern over who will succeed her as dynast. She has admitted to me that she erred in not deciding years ago. Now Idri is in a position to take the throne by force, once Sarkia dies, which may be next week or next year. Next week is the likelier."

  Omara paused, looking long and inscrutably at Macurdy. Even he
r aura told him little. "The dynast considers you her last real hope," she finished.

  "Me?"

  "You and Varia. She hopes Varia will come back to succeed her, with you as her consort. Varia to rule, you to support her. Then Sarkia would resign, turning the dynast's throne over to Varia.

  "She believes the Guards would support you. And that while she lives, the Tigers will not revolt, even if Varia exiles or imprisons Idri. Which she would, of necessity."

  "What do you believe?" Macurdy asked. "About the Tigers. Is Sarkia right?"

  "If she were not, Idri would already have deposed her. To the Tigers, Sarkia is their mother. Idri would murder her if she could, and hang someone else for it. And of course, Sarkia knows that very well. She keeps guards around her always, and has her own cooks."

  Good lord, Macurdy thought, what a mess. "What about you?" he asked. "She trusts you, and you already run things for her. Wouldn't the Guards back you if she told them to? I'll bet the Sisters would-Cloister Sisters and Outland Sisters."

  "Not against the Tigers. Conceivably they might, if I were charismatic, but I am not. Varia, on the other hand, is charismatic, and you are doubly so. You do not realize the respect the older Tigers have for you, from Quaie's War. They are not a breed much given to thought, but they are observant, and in their way, intelligent. And they admire charisma, something largely lacking in themselves."

  She paused for a long silent moment. "Will you do it?" she asked.

  Is this why I came back? Macurdy wondered. Or part of the reason? He wished Vulkan were there. "Omara," he said, "I can't answer you now. The most I can promise is that I'll tell Varia what Sarkia wants. But Varia loves Cyncaidh, of that I'm sure. She told me herself, and her aura backed her words. And they have children." As we had. Have. Taken from her by Sarkia as nurslings, as property of the Sisterhood. Could she be influenced by them? And what would Cyncaidh say or do if she decided she did want to leave him? From what he knew of the ylf, it was not inconceivable he might accept her decision.