10,000 Suns

by Michelle L. Levigne

  A long line of serving girls entered the hall, carrying more trays of delicacies for the celebration and led by Agrat. The fat eunuch glowed with giddy delight. Tonight, even Agrat's posturing couldn't irritate Challen. She realized now the terror the man had lived under since the failed ritual at summer solstice. If another Bride had been rejected by the Mother, found to be impure or inhabited by evil magic, it might have cost him his life because he was Chief Warder. Now, he laughed and beamed at her, bowed to her every time he saw her, and acted as if the success of the Sacred Marriage was entirely due to his training. Challen didn't mind. Nothing could bother her tonight.

  She smiled and squeezed her hand tightly around Elzan's ring. He waited for her, as she promised to wait for him. Even if it took twenty years before she could go to him in safety.

  "Lady.” O'klan hurried into the room. Snow clung to his hair and the shoulders of his robes. “Lady, will you speak with your father?” He beamed at her as he bowed.

  "Father?” For a moment Challen wondered why the eunuch had not brought her father to join the feast; this was in his honor, for hadn't he raised her to be a proper vessel and servant for Mother Matrika? But no man was allowed so far within the Sanctum. She couldn't leave Shazzur outside in the snow.

  The Brides cried out in protest as she got up to leave. She laughed and told them to enjoy themselves, promised to return quickly, and wrapped herself in the furred cloak O'klan brought.

  "Father?” Challen stepped out into the courtyard. She was pleased to see someone had built a fire and erected some kind of shelter against the wind and snow. “What is it?"

  "My dear, a young noble wishes to make you his wife. Will you consider his offer?” Shazzur asked, taking hold of her hands. His were warm and his smile glowed brighter than the torches behind him.

  "I can't marry someone I don't love."

  "But he adores you."

  "I don't care. I love Elzan. I promised I would wait for him and I will."

  "It could be many years."

  "I am already his wife, Father.” She held out the ring Elzan had put on her hand. “See?"

  "Don't you want to know who has asked for you?” Laughter hung in his voice, irritating her.

  "It doesn't matter. Tell him I am sorry, but I can't cheat him, and I won't break my promise."

  "You won't break your promise,” Elzan said, appearing from the shadows beyond the edge of the fire. He was frosted with snow, his face red, his smile a beacon. Challen stared, feeling as if her heart had forgotten how to beat.

  "You don't mind being a mere concubine?” her father asked, shaking her to break her from the happy daze.

  "I don't care what the rest of the world thinks of us,” she whispered, “if we're together."

  "There, it is as I told the King—she has already given herself to you.” Shazzur kissed her forehead in blessing and gave her a gentle shove in Elzan's direction.

  She ran to him. Elzan swept her up in his arms, enfolding her inside his cloak as they kissed.

  O'klan opened the doors of the Sanctum for her, so they could go inside and pack a few necessary items before Challen went to the palace with Elzan. A shriek echoed down the long hallway, competing with the returned howl of the wind. Challen stopped, frozen to the core. She smelled blood.

  "Murder!” Agrat shrieked, and thudded down the hall, moving twice as fast as a man of his bulk should have run.

  Elzan and O'klan darted inside. Challen would have followed, but Shazzur caught hold of her arm and held her back. He wrapped his arms around her and demanded Agrat tell them what had happened.

  The fat eunuch sank down on the snowy steps, shuddering and gasped out the words. For the first time since the feast began, all the Brides had been left alone. No servants, no eunuch warders. Agrat heard screams and came back into the room to see blood everywhere.

  Vashina and Tamisra attacked two other Brides with their eating knives while the other girls screamed and tripped over each other as they ran for the door.

  "Their eyes?” Shazzur barked, when the Head Warder started to dissolve into hysterical babbling. The fat man just stared at him. “What did their eyes look like?"

  "Their eyes?” Agrat swallowed convulsively, like a man trying not to vomit. “Their eyes.” He went even paler. “Their eyes were black, like burned pits in their heads."

  "Vashina and Tamisra were both eligible, Father,” Challen whispered. She felt cold all the way through, but not from the icy wind and the snow falling in great, thick, wet flakes.

  "Imagine what they would have done, if one of them had been chosen for the Sacred Marriage,” Shazzur muttered.

  All rules were set aside as priests from the Healers Temple were called in to take away the wounded. Vashina killed herself before Elzan could subdue her, but O'klan hit Tamisra with a stool and knock her unconscious. Officials from the Court were notified of what had happened. Healer priests adept in ferreting out evil magic came to stay in the Sanctum until it could be declared safe and sacrosanct again. A double unit of guards from the Host of the Ram stood guard around the Sanctum, in case someone else turned murderous.

  Just before Elzan took her away to the palace, Challen remembered the message she had been given for Veerian, the Song Weaver. She had refrained from crying up until that point, but Elzan's hope and relief at the news and his worry for his half-brother were so clear and strong, she burst into tears.

  "Sshhh, love, don't cry,” Elzan whispered as he set her in the saddle of his horse and climbed up behind her. He wrapped his arms and his cloak around her and clucked to his horse. “Be glad for me. Rushtan and Tamisra will both be healed and freed of the magic that controlled them. If our sons can be as good friends to each other as Rush and I have been, I will be eternally grateful to the Mother."

  "Sons?” Shock and memory cut through her weariness and suddenly her tears seemed silly. “How many were you planning on having?"

  "As many as the Mother gives us. And one daughter for your father to spoil."

  * * * *

  First Ascent Moon

  Challen was half-asleep when Elzan left her to dress for the Council meeting that would deal with the violation and deaths in the Sanctum. She was glad to obey his teasing order to stay in bed, and burrowed under the covers.

  Soon, though, the unfamiliarity of the bed and room began to press on her. The scent of Elzan lingered in the blankets, bringing memories of the quiet watches of the night when they had held each other close, whispering and dozing and sharing nothing more passionate than a few kisses. That wasn't enough to counteract awareness that she was no longer in her own room. Challen grew restless. She wanted Elzan's arms around her, his laughter in her ears, his kisses and caresses, and the warmth of his body next to hers under the covers.

  Especially the warmth of him. She hadn't been truly warm since winter began, except for the hours she lay in his arms. The heat they had generated seeped away even as she tried to fall asleep again.

  "You're a hedonist,” she whispered in the darkness. Her voice sounded loud. Challen realized the silence was total. The winter storms had calmed again. Did that accrue to her account as well, or was it just a natural cessation in the bad weather?

  It really didn't matter, she decided. Challen was fully awake now and she knew she would only get cranky and stiff if she stayed in bed any longer. Besides, she needed a bath.

  That was a problem. Where was she to bathe? Where were her clothes? O'klan was to pack all her possessions to transfer to the palace, but she had no idea where her new quarters were. She put on last night's clothes and contemplated wandering the palace in search of someone to help her.

  Maybe there was a servant in the outer rooms of Elzan's suite? Challen realized she knew very little about the everyday details of her new life. That was an unsettling revelation.

  A soft knocking broke into her musing. When she answered, O'klan stepped into the room, beaming.

  "I am here, Lady, to serve you until you have esta
blished your household,” he announced with a teasing twinkle in his eye.

  "Household. I'm not quite ready for this."

  "Understandable. You go from a simple scholar's life in the desert, to the Sanctum where you were pampered and you studied. Now, you will command servants and manage the prince's estates and attend Court gatherings. A very large change."

  "O'klan—could you—would you stay here with me? As my teacher and my adviser? I know you're happy—"

  "Lady, my duties are finished in the Sanctum. My most important duty was to guard you. I am honored you ask me. You could command.” He bowed, eyes gleaming.

  "I can't command my friends. Besides, who else can I trust to keep me from making myself and Elzan look foolish?"

  "To be called your friend, I would willingly become the lowliest slave in your household. However.” He bowed again and offered her his arm to escort her from the room. “I have a duty to guide my lady so she will become the jewel of the Court. I have no right to humble myself so drastically."

  Challen laughed as he led her down several private halls to the palace women's bathing room. This late in the morning no one used it, which suited Challen perfectly.

  For the first time, it didn't bother her to have the eunuch on the other side of the screen while she bathed. She listened as O'klan gave her the first of many lessons in behavior and fashion and managing the Crown Prince's household.

  I'll be with Elzan. He's made me First Concubine, but only until we have a son. Challen felt warm beyond the bath's heat. Pregnancy and childbirth were beyond her comprehension at that moment, but the actual process of becoming pregnant ... She pressed Elzan's ring to her lips and wished he were there, kissing her. She sank beneath the scented water. Bubbles escaped her lips as she laughed.

  "Lady?” O'klan asked.

  Challen sat up, sputtering. She realized the eunuch had been silent a while now, likely waiting for an answer from her.

  "I'm sorry. I ask you to teach me and then my mind wanders."

  "Understandable, Lady.” He chuckled, bringing new warmth to her face. Challen silently scolded herself for thinking he wouldn't understand, just because he had been neutered.

  * * * *

  O'klan returned Challen to Elzan's rooms and left two guards at the door, while he went to check on the progress in setting up her new quarters. There was little for Challen to do without her scrolls or tablets or flute. While she was gone, the servants had straightened Elzan's rooms, so she didn't have anyone to speak with, to question or try to make friends. She felt odd, wandering around Elzan's rooms, investigating the evidence of his everyday life and interests.

  Then she found his study room and the stacks of tablets and racks of scrolls and piles of notes on prophecies. He had told her of the King's commission to learn anything that might help return the Three and protect Bainevah. Challen smiled and settled down for a pleasant morning of studying and learning how her lover's mind worked. She had admired his clear thinking when she thought he was only a scribe who shared her interests. Knowing him as the prince and her lover opened vistas of experience and background she had not guessed. She looked forward to merging their minds as thoroughly as they had merged their bodies.

  Knocking on the door dragged her out of a fascinating scroll she had meant to read since the fall rains started. It had amused her to find Elzan had it. Challen scowled and sighed as the knocking continued. She wished O'klan were there to tell the people outside to go away, that she was busy.

  Or was it a summons to come to Elzan? He said he would call on her to help him report to the King. Had Council ended already, and he needed her in private conference? She tugged her dress straight and hurried through the interconnecting rooms to the main door.

  "Lady Kena'Shazzur, will you speak with Princess Kena'Coori?” the guard asked when Challen opened the door.

  "Princess? Yes. Please, Highness, come in.” Challen pulled the door open wide and dropped into the deepest curtsey she could remember.

  A slim blonde woman entered. A tall, icy blond eunuch in palace uniform shut the door behind her, staying in the hall.

  "Oh, please, don't,” the woman said, and went nearly to her knees to make Challen stand. “The King freed your family from bowing. Besides—” A dimple appeared in one cheek. “You'll be queen someday. I should bow to you."

  "Oh, no, never,” Challen blurted. “Highness—"

  "We are now sisters,” the princess said. “So please, no titles? I am Cayeen. Elzan told me to consider you his wife, and asked me to come keep you company."

  Challen took a deep breath and a step backwards. It was one thing to hear Elzan vow they were already married, but to know he had told someone else, and this woman accepted his words, was something else altogether.

  "Please, be welcome. Sister?” Something warm sparked deep inside when Princess Cayeen smiled.

  They spent the morning together. Cayeen gave Challen an insider's view of life in the palace and put her at ease by telling ridiculous stories and snatches of spicy gossip. When it came time for the noon meal, they went to Cayeen's rooms, accompanied by her eunuch guard Ashur and two members of the Host of the Ram.

  While they ate, word came that Lady Mayar had assembled a team of healer priests to search the archives for the scrolls containing the healing songs. It could take moons of search, but she and Veerian were positive Rushtan and Tamisra would soon be free of the magic that controlled them. Cayeen burst into tears when the messenger left, and it was then Challen learned that Rushtan was her only full-blooded brother. She answered all her new friend's questions, about the visions, the messages she had been given, and her own strange experience with the magic that turned eyes black and stole a man's body from his control.

  Because no one knew how many people had been affected by the magic that had taken over Vashina and Tamisra, and because they had attacked when the Brides were alone, it was assumed that Challen had been the target. Until they could be sure all the enemy's servants had been found and the magic destroyed, the King had ordered a guard on Challen. She felt conspicuous, irritated, frightened, and relieved to have guards. Cayeen had the ability to ignore guards that came with long practice and Challen tried to mimic her new sister.

  Sister. It felt odd to realize she suddenly had a large family. It pleased her that Elzan had asked his sister to consider Challen his wife. It pleased Challen more that Cayeen accepted her so eagerly.

  Elzan came to fetch her that evening and brought her back to his quarters because hers weren't ready yet. Challen thought it ridiculous that he wouldn't let her see her half-prepared rooms. They laughed together, playing at arguing and ignored their guards as they walked the private hallways of the palace. This was how it would be for the rest of their lives, she decided, and it filled her with an overflowing sweetness that made her want to both laugh and cry.

  That realization startled her, because she didn't think she had ever been a particularly emotional person. Passionate about ideals, about right and wrong and justice, Shazzur always said—but never emotional. Could she be pregnant after only one long, delicious day in Elzan's arms? Even if she were, the baby wouldn't affect her already, would it?

  No, she decided. Not pregnant. Simply showing the strain of the sudden, multiple changes in her life.

  "It was rude to yank me away from Cayeen,” she told Elzan, when they were finally alone in his quarters.

  A miniature feast waited for them. She was hungry, but she didn't want the game between them to stop.

  "Rude? You are my wife, and if we had gone to the Temple and made our vows properly, we would be alone for an entire moon quarter. Maybe two.” Elzan startled a squeak out of her by sweeping her off her feet and sitting down at the table with her on his lap. “Cayeen would have been rude to try to keep us apart. Besides, if I hadn't come for you, our other two sisters would have swooped down on you eventually, and Cayeen is the only decent one of the bunch. You like her, don't you?"

  "Very much. Elza
n...” She sighed as he kissed her.

  The hot food had cooled and the chilled foods had warmed by the time they had made up for a day spent apart.

  CHAPTER 17

  The next day, Elzan again spent with the Council, this time questioning Agrat and his assistants about everyone who might have had access to the Brides or who might have been able to sneak into the Sanctum. Challen spent the morning at the Healers Temple, glad to be anonymous in her green robes and free of her veil. Jeconiah avoided her, to the point that it might have been amusing if she had thought about it. Challen had other things on her mind, however. She discovered that her sensitivity had doubled and her endurance in healing had tripled. When she reported the change, Lady Mayar looked suspiciously smug.

  "You knew this would happen?” Challen demanded.

  "It is common enough. Once someone serves as a channel from the Mother, other blessings flow more freely.” Lady Mayar hugged her. “Your other talents shall appear soon, I think."

  Challen couldn't get her mind off that revelation as she finished her morning's work and climbed into her sedan chair to ride to the Scribes Hall to meet with Haneen for lunch and study. She paid little attention when the second shift of Host guards, Belten and Oyen introduced themselves to her. Then, nearly to the Scribes Hall, she felt ashamed. Hadn't she vowed she would never become like the nobles who treated their servants and guards as furniture? Challen started a conversation with the two men, and discovered they had asked for the duty because they were friends of Elzan's since boyhood training. She liked them and felt guilty for making them travel about in the cold. When she said so, they laughed and wouldn't tell her why.

  "Welcome, Great Lady, vessel of the Mother.” Haneen dropped to her knees on the archives floor when Challen entered the room.

  Challen stared at her friend. A shudder ran through her, with a sickening certainty that Haneen's friendship had been a mask and now she feared the exalted personage Challen had become. Then she saw the tiny shudders in the scribe girl's shoulders. Haneen's face was pink and her shoulders twitched as she struggled not to laugh aloud.