"Hmm, yes, and they are just stupidly selfish enough to risk Bainevah for their own profit. It amazes me how they can all be your brothers. If they didn't look so much like Nebazz, I'd accuse their mothers of whoring. How can any of them believe they could rule a shattered country?"
"I suspect their friend has promised there will be little bloodshed. Except mine and the King's."
"And my throat, and those of the Hosts loyal to you. Yes. You are, as always, right.” The old soldier grinned ruefully.
"I had the best of teachers, Uncle. Tell the King. Today."
"Tell him yourself, my son,” Queen Mayar said, entering the courtyard where the two met. She held out Elzan's Court clothes.
"Mother?” He swallowed an urge to whoop for joy.
"You are healed as much as you can heal, fretting and pacing here in your prison."
"A loving prison, Mother.” Elzan clasped her shoulders and kissed both her cheeks.
* * * *
'The Complacent Faction,’ as Challen referred to her opponents on the Council, opposed her plan to build a new Hidden City. They maintained the city, its people and wealth, would be returned whole with the Three.
They think this is some child's tale of magic and beneficent spirits, instead of a battle between Maquaos in his latest disguise and the Mother, she fumed.
She knew better than to say what she thought. Glancing at Chizhedek, who wholly supported her, she could see he fumed silently also. The support of the High Priest meant little to the opposing forces in Council, and that worried Challen.
"Majesty, Crown Prince Doni'Nebazz joins the Council,” the guard at the door announced, as Elzan strode through the door.
Challen stayed seated, glad for her right to do so. She gripped her chair, her hands hidden under her formal robes, to fight the urge to fling herself at Elzan. She devoured him with her gaze as the rest of the Council stood to welcome him.
Elzan took the empty seat at the King's right hand. He gripped the chair arms to brace himself as he sat, meaning his wounded leg still bothered him. Watching him sit, Challen felt a subliminal settling in the room, as if the final piece in a puzzle lock had been put into place.
"Do you wish to speak before we continue?” the King asked his son, when everyone had taken their seats.
"I will return us to the discussion I interrupted, Majesty,” Elzan said. “I read the proposal to rebuild the Hidden City. I agree with Lady Kena'Shazzur. Prophecies support her stand. The Hidden City was established to serve the Three. How will they be served and how will they be restored unless the Hidden City is ready when the moment comes?"
"Highness, convince us that this is right,” Abendago said. He glanced at Challen and winked.
"The Prophecy speaks of the Flame coming.” Elzan's gaze drifted to Challen as he spoke.
Her heart thudded against her ribs in panic and aching love. She hadn't been able to tell Elzan of her father's final words, and his assertion that the Flame wasn't their child, but her missing brother, Asha. Elzan couldn't know about the child inside her, could he? Or had a vision told him?
"The Hidden City,” Elzan continued, “is often called the Lamp of the Mother, and the Oil of Light. How can a flame exist unless it is contained by a lamp and fed oil? Furthermore, when the Three are restored, how can we keep them safe unless the Hidden City is prepared to shelter them? We endanger Bainevah's future if we neglect such elemental tactics."
Challen clasped her hands together until the ram's head ring left its imprint in her flesh. She had used similar arguments. Just watching the faces of the members of the Council, she saw Elzan's mere presence persuaded them. She didn't know whether to shriek in frustration or laugh at the closed minds that resisted her, yet fell prey to Elzan simply because he was the Crown Prince and miraculously risen from his sickbed. She would not be angry or jealous, she vowed. She would be grateful for his support and his renewed presence.
In moments, Council approved her request to begin plans and to send a Host to survey a site. Elzan introduced the next topic. He spread his maps on the table and explained what he and Commander Asqual had investigated, what the scouts found, and his theory that treachery waited to assist invaders.
"All this based on your visions?” King Nebazz asked. He smiled without humor. Challen rather thought there was pride. “Enemies took my friend and Seer, but Mother Matrika gave his gift of visions to my firstborn and heir. We would be fools, my Lords of the Gates, if we did not pay heed to her messenger."
There was surprisingly little dissension. Challen only saw one place where the preparations against treachery could unravel. She kept quiet until the Council adjourned to eat. With O'klan as escort, she went to the room holding the banquet table and a scattering of small tables for individual dining. The Council members sent servants to fill their plates for them while they talked in twos and threes. Challen preferred to fill her own plate. Elzan served himself as well.
"I miss you,” he whispered, as he handed her a tiny loaf studded with apricots, still warm from the oven.
"Thank you, Highness.” Challen flinched as she saw a shadow approach.
O'klan nodded to them and took up a position where he could see anyone approach them. Challen wanted to hug the big man for his cunning. He could warn them if anyone tried to overhear their conversation. Here in plain sight, no one could accuse them of breaking her mourning period and the King's edicts.
"I reach for you in my sleep,” she whispered back, and stepped along the table, pretending to search for something else amid the fruit and sweets and strips of venison wrapped in grape leaves. “A hundred times a day, I turn to tell you something and find myself speaking to empty air."
"I would hear you, no matter where I am."
She nearly dropped her plate. Elzan handed her a goblet of sweet watered wine and she thanked him with a nod and sipped until her flaming cheeks began to cool. Then the detail that had bothered her in Council returned to her thoughts.
"Who commands the scouts to the north?” she asked.
"Anath, Abrak, and Onash."
"Do you suspect treachery or stupidity?"
"Ah, my most perceptive Lady Kena'Shazzur.” Elzan bowed to her and chuckled. Several heads turned in their direction. “I think I would prefer treachery."
"Why?"
"Treachery can be dealt with and eliminated. Stupidity speaks ill of my father's bloodline.” He twisted his face into a mask of regret.
Challen laughed. She nearly spilled her wine. Her lungs hurt, though she didn't laugh long. Later, she realized it was the first time she had truly laughed since her father had died.
* * * *
Fifth Ascent Moon
"A good day today, Lady,” O'klan said, joining Challen on the balcony, where she had been since finishing her supper.
"A very good day.” She smiled at him and turned her back to the garden and the crimson, gold, and purple streaking the horizon. “O'klan, was I very ... obvious today?"
By now, she not only had her father's words and Queen Mayar's testimony, but the proof of her own body that she was pregnant. It grew harder every day to meet Elzan in Council and speak calmly, to stand with him at the Temple during ceremonies and not blurt the news.
"No, Lady. You are always reserved and proper.” He grinned broadly and winked. “If you lower your eyes when you are greatly moved, no one will guess your feelings."
"Good. Several on the Council would like to make me a daughter by marriage. Either to dominate or protect me. I wouldn't like to hurt one or give weapons to the other."
"Court gossip is forgetful, Lady. Those who remember you were the Prince's concubine say you went to him because no one waited after the Sacred Marriage. Some even say he coerced you."
"Who?” A spurt of anger warmed her face. “Only arrogant fools believe I would let anyone touch me but Elzan."
"They forget your father would have fought the King if your Prince tried to claim you against your will."
&nb
sp; "The same ones who think they can trick me into marriage.” She nodded, seeing his malicious delight. “How is it you know all these things to warn me, and Mynoch doesn't?"
"Ah, he is too devoted to little Haneen. He sees nothing, speaks of nothing but her. Love is very soothing to his temper."
"How so?” Challen sighed as the cool breezes caressed her, soothing the damp heat that made her dress cling to her body.
"His brothers tease him that he has become a scribe, and he shows no anger."
"He has. He's so adept in the archives, even Hajbaz thinks he's competent enough to work without supervision."
"High praise,” O'klan agreed, grinning.
"Between Andorn and Mynoch, I know how Elzan fares when I don't see him in Council. And it still isn't enough.” She sighed. “I wish ... I wish there were no Three, no Bainevah, no throne. Just Elzan and I, in the middle of nowhere."
"And an endless night of stars and a soft couch and cool breezes,” he added, laughter making his voice rich.
"Torturer.” Challen gripped the stone railing to fight the longing for Elzan that filled her belly with churning warmth. “Haneen is with her sweetheart, and I am glad. Go enjoy yourself for the evening, O'klan. I need very much to be alone. Tell my guards, no one comes in unless they come from the King."
"As you wish, Lady.” The eunuch bowed, then lightly squeezed her shoulder before turning to leave.
Challen looked out over the garden again, listening to the sound of his footsteps, the closing of doors and the click of his key in the locks. Finally she was alone, completely; no attendants, no ever-watchful guards. A soldier patrolled the garden below, but not so close as to intrude on her privacy.
A dew-jeweled garden, hours of privacy, rooms with every possible luxury, and a starry, clear night were worthless if she had no one to share them. Challen sighed and turned to go back into her workroom. The only way to get through the night was to read and make notes and fill her head with facts and figures until she was too tired to see straight.
Something thudded softly on the balcony. Challen paused, one hand on the clasp holding her dress together at her shoulder. She took a step onto the balcony and saw nothing amid the shadows. She undid the clasp and stepped back inside. The clasp on her other shoulder was stubborn. Challen hissed and sucked on her finger when she broke the skin, then tried again. Her dress slithered to the floor. The cool breeze from the balcony felt good, chilling her, clad only in a sheer, sweat-drenched sheath held up with two thin straps. The day had been too warm, locked up in Council. She welcomed the coolness, even if it raised gooseflesh.
"Torturer,” a man whispered from the balcony doorway.
Challen spun to face the intruder, mentally conjuring flames. She took a deep breath to shout for her guards. Released, unused energy flashed in the air as she gasped.
Elzan leaned against the doorway, his smile widening as his gaze traveled over her figure.
"You shouldn't undress in a doorway, Lady Kena'Shazzur. A man might forget your need for privacy."
"No one can see me from the garden."
"Am I no one?” He took a step into the room.
"How did you get here?"
"I climbed from my balcony to the roof, then walked until I got here and dropped down. The King forbade your door and the halls and garden to his sons. He didn't forbid the roof and balcony.” Elzan opened his arms.
"You could have hurt yourself. You could have fallen. What if a guard saw you and attacked before he recognized you?” She trembled with anger at his foolishness, fear at the thought of added injury, and greedy pride that he had taken such risks to reach her. “Are you all right?"
"Kiss me, Challen. I'll be completely right then."
She smothered a sob and flew to him. She tried to be gentle, careful of the pink, shiny flesh on his bare arm and side and leg. His simple servant's kilt revealed so much his Court clothes and jewelry had hidden. Elzan growled, teasing, when she tried to keep her embrace light, and wrapped his arms around her tight enough to threaten her ribs. The force of his kiss bruised. His hands burned through her sheath.
"You shouldn't be here,” she whispered, when his kisses traveled down her neck. “It's forbidden."
"I don't care."
"The King—"
"The King can't forbid a man to make love to his wife. You are my wife, Challen, from the moment I held you in my arms in the Sacred Marriage.” Elzan shook her twice. “I am the Young Ram and you are the Wise and Mother Matrika made me responsible for your safety. She gave us to each other and bade us be happy. No one, not even the King can come between us.” He swept her up in his arms and started across the room.
"Elzan—"
He kissed her, smothering her attempts to speak. Then he shoved the door open with his hip.
"I'll never forgive my Father for leaving my Mother a concubine for so long.” He shuddered once. “I'll never do to you what he did to her."
"But Elzan—"
"Don't you want to make love to me, Challen?” he asked, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"Of course.” She wrapped her arm around his neck and drew his head down to kiss him. “But we're going the wrong way to my bedroom."
Elzan groaned, the sound turning to laughter as he let her slide down until she stood on her own feet again. They kissed, laughter bubbling up, vibrating through their bodies.
"I love you, Challen. Forever. You are the only one. You will always be the only one."
"Always and only,” she whispered back. She took his hand and led him through her workroom to another door. Her bedroom was bathed in shadows, the air sweet with scented lamp oil. “Elzan...” She melted against him as he stopped her words with more kisses.
"Hmm?” He swept her up and carried her to the bed.
"Hurry.” She laughed as he dropped her among the pillows and pounced.
CHAPTER 22
"Do you have to leave already?” Challen murmured as Elzan unwrapped himself from around her.
He sat up, creating a perfect silhouette against the nearly full moon shining bright through her window as it headed for the horizon and dawn.
"You, love, should be asleep.” Elzan leaned over her and brushed a kiss across her forehead.
"I'm cold without you."
His bark of laughter made them both wince and look toward the window, as if the soldier in the garden could hear.
"A little while ago, I thought we would set the bed afire.” He stroked her sweat-damp hair out of her face. “I love to watch you sleep, but if I don't leave soon I could be caught."
"A scandal, surely. Would it be enough to make Anbis leave?” She sat up and watched as he searched the floor for wherever he had tossed his kilt and sandals and breechcloth.
"Only death—which I wish I dared.” He glanced out into the garden, then turned back to sit on the edge of the bed. “Listen to me, love. I dreamed you gave birth to a flame that destroyed a vast, creeping shadow. You lay on a hill of snow, and as the child was born, the hill became a lush garden—"
"Our child will be born at winter solstice."
Elzan didn't even breathe. Though he had the moon at his back, there was enough light to see his staring eyes, bright with either astonished joy or terror or confusion.
"Challen?” he whispered, and caught up her hand to press against his lips. She turned her hand to grasp his and guide it to her still-flat belly.
"Father told me I had conceived at equinox.” She was amazed at how calm she felt, giving him the news. “If you dreamed this, then our child will be safe."
"With Anbis trying to drag you away to Dreva and my brothers waiting to trick you into marriage."
"I am safe—we are safe until solstice. We have plenty of time to think of what to do."
"Until solstice,” he whispered. Then a grin wiped away the shock. “Our child!” He snatched her up into his lap and kissed her breathless.
* * * *
Sixth Ascent Moon
Chal
len suspected O'klan knew about Elzan's nighttime visits from the start. The eunuch always made sure she had treats in her bedroom; sweets and fruit-filled breads, skins of light, sweet wine and extra cups. Then he took to bringing her oysters in a bitter sauce and candied mandrakes; delicacies she didn't care for, but which were reputed to inspire lovemaking.
Mynoch and Haneen brought her information about Skataeroz, who was referred to as Shadow Lord, the Darkness, He Who Devours, and other titles that confirmed their suspicions—Skataeroz was Maquaos Shadowmaker. Challen didn't doubt there were prophecies in Dreva which dealt with her. The difference between the prophetic words of Maquaos and Matrika was that Maquaos could only speak the future he wished to be. He lacked Matrika's power to move events and people to serve him.
The solstice deadline crept up on them and Challen's attention focused on finding some way to refuse Anbis’ demands without plunging Bainevah into war with Dreva. She held conferences with her friends and confidants, and when Elzan crept along the rooftops of the palace to come to her, she told him what they had found. Still, all their work was useless if they did not learn the identity of the traitor who would sell them to Dreva.
* * * *
Three days before solstice, Challen heard Amilia had been chosen. She watched King Nebazz carefully, trying to determine if he would carry his duty, or give it to Elzan again.
"I'm jealous,” she confided to Elzan, when he climbed down to be with her that night.
"Good.” He swept her up in his arms. “Now you know how I felt, thinking a husband waited for you."
"My Father never did anything to find one for me, though there were several who did ask..."
"How many is ‘several'?"
"It doesn't matter. He told them to wait until I was free to choose for myself.” She sighed and nuzzled his neck as he carried her through the door.
"I miss him. Let's name one of our sons for him.” Elzan put her down on the bed and knelt over her. “Ease your heart, love. My Father asked me today if I would take his place."
"What?” Her stomach clenched.
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