"Your marriage will combine two worships and nations into one.” Anbis’ voice smoothed into something hypnotic and sweet; Challen dug fingernails into her palms to fight the allure. “Matrika and Skataeroz will join in the partnership destined since the beginning of time. Bainevah and Dreva will join. We shall become the greatest nation the world has ever known."
"You honor me, Ambassador. I should like to study these prophecies.” She would rather burn the scrolls that contained such prophecies, but Challen knew better than to destroy any knowledge, no matter how poisonous.
"When you come to Dreva to wed the Bull, all the archives of our temples shall be open to your study.” He bowed, and Challen suspected his smile was not pleasantness but triumph. He thought he had won already, did he?
"There can be no talk of marriage,” Queen Mayar said as she glided up to join them, with Jushta and six guards in attendance. Andorn moved aside to let her settle on the bench next to Challen.
Anbis reared back like a snake and opened his mouth to speak. He paused, and Challen could almost see the thoughts snapping through his mind. The Queen wore her formal robes as Healer High Priestess, giving her double status and power. Only a fool or a madman dared strike a healer, even if she weren't a royal lady.
"Forgive my ignorance, Lady Priestess,” he finally said, smoothing his smile back across his face. “I do not understand how you can decide for Kena'Shazzur."
"I do not decide.” Mayar took hold of Challen's hand and squeezed just a little tighter than necessary.
Tingling warmth flowed between their palms. Why did the woman use healing power on her? Unless she thought Challen had been drugged, or poisoned?
"King Doni'Jazzan'Nebazz'Dayona has decided. Four princes have requested the right to court Lady Kena'Shazzur."
"Forgive my bluntness, Lady Priestess, but the desires of a prince who will not rule are of no consequence to Dreva."
"Propriety rules. Lady Kena'Shazzur is in mourning for her revered father, the former Seer and First Advisor to the King. By the King's decree, when her mourning has ended she will be free to consider marriage, and not before then."
Challen's free hand edged toward her belly and the possible child there. She clenched her fist to stop the protective gesture; it could be used against her by an observant enemy.
"And how long must this mourning last?” Anbis asked, his voice softening almost to a whisper. He smiled pleasantly, but Challen saw the icy poison behind his polished manners.
"For such an exalted, honored and holy person as my father, three moons.” Challen almost smiled when Anbis moved back a step and his eyes widened in dismay. “As he died at equinox, my mourning shall end at solstice."
By solstice, she would know if she was pregnant. Nothing, not even the threat of war, would convince King Nebazz to let Anbis take her if she was pregnant with his grandchild, Elzan's firstborn, the future king of Bainevah.
"Agreed,” Anbis said, raising his hand to call all present to witness this moment. “At solstice, Lady Kena'Shazzur, you will see the wisdom in submitting to the marriage waiting for you in Dreva. It is foretold."
"So you say, Ambassador, but I credit no prophecy I have not studied. Mother Matrika has not spoken of this marriage, and I would be a fool to act without her blessing.” A new thought struck her. “What does Skataeroz's name mean?"
"Shade and shelter, of course.” He bowed to her.
Shade? she mused, as they went through the polite farewells required of diplomats who would rather use knives. I think not. I think shadows. I think darkness more appropriate.
"That was well done,” Queen Mayar murmured when the Drevans had left them. She began to withdraw her hand, but Challen twined her fingers through the woman's and held on.
"Was there poison being used against me?"
"No, but I feared it. Elzan was unsure of what he had seen, and there is nothing wrong with hedging a wager.” She managed a smile, but it didn't take the angry pallor from her ivory face.
"Elzan?"
"He woke from a terrible dream, of Anbis tying you to an altar. A Bull-man raped you, and a darkness that covered the land emerged from your womb."
"Mother,” she whispered, and Challen wasn't sure if she called on Matrika or Mayar.
"There, it is all right, child. The danger is averted. In three moons we shall know how to deny the Drevans in safety.” She again tried to free her hand, but Challen held on with both hands now. “Challen?"
"I need your help. I cannot examine myself to be sure ... We must go inside."
The entire party hurried in silence into the palace and up the stairs to Challen's apartment doors. O'klan, Belten, and Oyen insisted on searching her rooms, first, to be sure Anbis’ people weren't waiting to kidnap her. Andorn and Jushta and the guards protected them, watching the shadows at the bottom of the stairs leading to her door, as if the enemy would emerge there. Jushta and Queen Mayar's guards stood outside the door while Andorn sent for others in the Host of the Ram to guard her balcony.
"This must go no further than this room,” Challen whispered, drawing Mayar and O'klan into her workroom. The eunuch brought a lamp and shut the door. “The day my Father died, he told me I had conceived on the equinox. A son."
"Ah.” Mayar smiled and gently guided Challen to the couch. “You wish me to be sure?” She placed both hands over Challen's belly and the faint golden glow rose from her fingers.
"If this is so, you cannot tell anyone, Lady. Not until the child is visible inside you,” O'klan said. “Your enemies will destroy the child and then say you were mistaken."
"We have three moons of grace and freedom from suitors. Safe from Anbis and Skataeroz.” Challen felt a measure of calm wash over her, even though O'klan had confirmed her fears.
"Then we will have a Sacred Marriage and a royal marriage at solstice,” Queen Mayar announced.
"I'm pregnant?"
"The signs are clear.” She smiled and gently cupped Challen's cheek. “Thank you, child."
"For what?"
"Letting me touch my grandchild first."
"They will say the child is not Elzan's. They will accuse me of breaking my mourning by taking a lover."
"Then we must guard your virtue as that of a Sanctum Bride.” A mirthless chuckle escaped her. “No one can then claim to be the father but Elzan. The King has forbidden all suitors to approach your door or walk in the gardens below your balcony. None may approach you anywhere but during Court and festivals."
"Where there are plenty of witnesses.” Challen sighed, glad for the King's decree even as part of her felt she would choke. Even Elzan could not approach her now.
"We must tell no one. Not even the King or your grandfather,” Mayar continued. “As wise as those two are, I fear the news of a child would test their discretion. All we need is for a single whisper to escape. It would open you to danger, and Anbis would order Elzan's death to make it easier to take you."
"Then to protect us all, silence.” She pressed both hands over her belly and imagined she felt the growing child move already. In fear, or to confirm the Queen's words?
CHAPTER 21
"I've had those dreams again, Mother,” Elzan said, when Mayar entered his room that morning.
He could sit up now, if he leaned on his good hip and used his undamaged arm to push himself upright. Elzan slept more than he liked, but with few visitors, there was little to do besides study and sleep. Sometimes he woke up aching for Challen to hold him. When he didn't dream of her kisses and her touch soothing his burns, he dreamed of floods—fire or water or bulls—coming down on Bainevah from the north.
The Bull was Dreva, the country to the north. During the Sacred Marriage, Challen had been gifted with a vision of Dreva gathering for war, guided by a beacon from within Bainevah.
"Again from the north?” Queen Mayar paused before putting down the wide tray with fresh bandages and ointment and wine to wash the seeping burns. “I told your father last night of your man
y visions. He was just sleepy enough to be amused. He says his seer's ghost has given you the gift.” She settled on the padded bench next to the bed and began unwinding his bandages.
"And?” Elzan prompted.
"He is very pleased with Challen's words, her confidence and wisdom and the humor she brings to Council. He doesn't know whether she learned that from her father, or from you."
"At least he acknowledges Challen was mine.” He still nurtured resentment at what the King had done. It was for the good of the kingdom, true, and Challen was even more carefully protected now as king's adviser. More than he could have managed for his concubine. That rankled, even if he was grateful.
"She is still yours, in her heart where it truly matters. You are only forbidden her bed for the present time."
"No, Mother. Not forbidden. Blocked. There's a difference."
"She is as sacrosanct as a Sanctum Bride. If you try to go to her, you will be halted long before you reach her door."
"What was the exact wording of the ban?"
"The exact wording...” Mayar signaled him to be quiet while she finished unwrapping the bandages. She frowned as she gently swabbed the oozing flesh. “All suitors are forbidden to set foot in the hallways leading to her door. They are forbidden to enter her garden. They are only permitted to approach her among the Court or at festivals. Your father wants witnesses to whatever they say to her. Several of your brothers have tricked people into bargains and contracts they never intended to make. With witnesses and O'klan to guide her, our Challen is safe."
Elzan smiled, despite the renewed stinging and a longing to dig his nails into his tender, healing flesh and scratch until he found relief. “He didn't forbid the balcony or her rooms, just the means to get there."
"What are you planning?"
"If I don't tell you, then you won't be tricked into betraying me."
"I am very adept at keeping secrets, my hawk,” she responded tartly, yet with a smile.
"I know.” He caught her hand and kissed the back, wincing at the taste of sour medicinal wine. “You are true to me. If not for you, I think I'd be afraid to trust my heart to anyone."
"But?"
"This is between Challen and myself. If you don't know, you won't be tempted to tell her. If she doesn't know, then those watching her won't be warned when I act."
* * * *
That night, Elzan dreamed of a river that dug into the ground around the city walls. Deep in the ground, the water burst up inside the walls of the city. It turned into bulls of fire, which rampaged through the city, goring and trampling and burning everything in their path.
Elzan woke with a shout. O'klan was on duty and hurried into the prince's room. He wiped his face and gave him wine mixed with soothing herbs.
"Tell Challen,” Elzan commanded, when he had told the eunuch what he had dreamed.
"What can she do, Highness?"
"The city is built on bedrock. Nothing can tunnel under the walls unless treachery is used. Don't you see? Someone here, inside the city, will help the invaders come through the walls. We'll be devoured from inside, not from without.” Elzan clutched the half-empty cup hard enough his knuckles turned white. “Tell Challen to look for such images in the history scrolls. Fire and flood breaking through the bedrock."
"Indeed, Highness. I will.” The eunuch put two fingers under the base of the cup, urging it back up to Elzan's mouth. “Drink. Clear your mind and sleep. The sooner you are healed, the happier she will be. When her mind is eased over you, she will have more energy and thought to devote to Bainevah."
"Does my Father work her too hard?"
"Not half as hard as she works herself.” He chuckled fondly. “She has much to protect. The future is in her hands.” O'klan waited until Elzan finished the wine. “When you are permitted to walk again, will you return to the Council?"
"If I could persuade my Mother, I'd have them carry me in. I don't know if she's worried about my dignity or my ability to defend myself."
"The Priestess is a wise lady who has brought her own blessings on the land,” O'klan murmured. He took the empty cup. “Sleep now, Highness, and dream of our Lady. She dreams of you every night."
"She told you that?” Elzan clutched the blankets to keep from running to Challen. His wounded leg wouldn't support him beyond one step.
"No. I hear her sigh your name in her sleep."
"Tell her I dream of her even when I don't sleep."
O'klan bowed deeply, his midnight face glowing with a smile, and left the sickroom. Elzan sighed and tried to find a more comfortable spot among his pillows. The spring night was cool, but he felt hot, his skin prickling, as if he were still inside the Shazzur's burning house.
Maybe it was good Challen wasn't there, he mused. She would hold him and kiss him and try to soothe away his discomfort. Her touch would kindle new fires, and until he healed, he would only find frustration in her arms.
* * * *
Commander Asqual agreed with Elzan's assessment when he came to talk the next morning. He brought detailed maps of the city and archival drawings of the phases of the walls built, dismantled and remade through eight centuries. Springs and cisterns around the city were charted by the royal surveyors and Asqual promised he would assign one entire Host to search for underground rivers.
Elzan had more dreams of the fire and flood, bulls and rivers digging under the walls of the city. When those visions didn't haunt him, he suffered dreams of Challen that tormented him with longing.
Ten days after the fire, he got permission to try to walk. His burns had healed enough, Queen Mayar didn't fear them re-opening under pressure. The long wound on his hip worried her, the muscle torn in such a way that it was stubborn about healing.
His leg had a tendency to fold without warning. Elzan held onto Commander Asqual's arm and walked from his bed to his door. His head felt light and his heart thudded in his ears and the wound stabbed fire down his leg with every step. Still, he laughed with Asqual when he reached the door and leaned against the wall. He walked four more times before sunset, and each time was easier, until he needed no support.
Challen was his first visitor the next morning.
"Congratulations, Highness,” she said, when Elzan could only stare. She was a vision in midnight blue and silver Court robes.
He was sure he slept, dreaming she had come into the courtyard where he had gone to enjoy the cool morning sunshine.
"Since you can now walk, you are permitted visitors. Under strict supervision,” Challen continued. She nodded toward the guards; all personal friends in the Host of the Ram. Four around the courtyard, two at the door.
"Thank you, Lady Kena'Shazzur. I offer my congratulations on your new duties.” Elzan held out his hand. When she gave her trembling hand into his grasp, he bowed over it. He wanted to pull her down into his lap and kiss her until they were breathless. That was impossible, with six soldiers, Haneen, and O'klan in attendance.
"Every advantage has its disadvantages, Highness.” She swept her skirts aside and sank down in a full Court bow.
"No, Lady, you forget your family has no need to bow to royal blood.” Elzan caught hold of her hand again and raised her to her feet. “In my eyes, you are royal."
"My love,” she whispered, before Elzan released her hand. She nodded to him and sank down into the chair next to his.
"What errand has brought you here?"
"Your visions, Highness.” Challen beckoned and Haneen hurried forward with a basket of scrolls. The scribe girl winked at Elzan. “We found similar references in ancient prophecies. Some may be linked to my Father's visions. Will you read and give us your insights?"
"Gladly, Lady.” Elzan took the scrolls from her. Under cover of sliding the silk sleeve off, he squeezed her hand. He smiled when he felt his ring on her thumb.
Before Challen left two hours later, they had managed many a touch, a whisper, a long moment gazing into each other's eyes. Elzan knew Haneen caught every stolen mo
ment, and was delighted at the subterfuge. O'klan was hard pressed not to beam. The delight in the big man's eyes was enough to start Elzan chuckling, even as he sighed for more than just the touch of Challen's hand.
* * * *
"Treachery.” Elzan pressed his hands against the table top, taking the weight off his aching leg. He didn't care if anyone noticed; he had more important things on his mind.
One moon quarter of careful surveying and scouting by the most trustworthy and skilled engineers in the Host of the Ram had confirmed there were no underground streams or hidden tunnels to lead enemy armies into the city. No hidden springs in the bedrock to undermine the walls.
The only way for enemies to come into the city in secret was through treachery.
"No sign of armies approaching, despite the troubles with Chadrasheer last fall or the news from Moragraen,” Asqual said. “I agree with you, lad, but the scouting teams all say movement is to the east and west, not south toward us.” He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, stiff in his Court clothes. He and Elzan met every morning after Asqual attended Court.
"Treachery will come in as a flood from the north,” Elzan murmured. He picked up the parchment sheets and rolled them into a thick tube.
"I don't doubt you. They could take the countries to the west and east, and come through them into Bainevah—but that means invasion next summer. Two moons until solstice. No good commander begins a war after solstice. No time for a siege."
"Either the commander who will face us is not good ... or he depends on deep treachery.” His mouth tasted fouler every time he used the word. “Commander, I honor you as an uncle, but you have forgotten one important detail.” He waited until Asqual had thought for a moment and his frown deepened. “Onash commands the Host of the North Gate. Anath has the West Gate. Abrak was given the Water Gate when I became Crown Prince. These three Hosts now scout to the north."
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