10,000 Suns

by Michelle L. Levigne

  "He would rather be with my Mother. I understand why he never looks forward to solstice ... As long as he is king, he must fulfill his duty."

  "Of course. To give it to you again would undermine the people's faith in him, no matter how good the outcome.” She tried to swallow down her insecure feelings. No matter how she tried to reason through the situation, it still rankled her to think of Elzan with Amilia.

  "He meant it as a gift, a sign of favor,” Elzan said, shaking his head. “I told him no."

  "Really?"

  "Truly.” Elzan stretched out on top of her slowly, his arms along hers, fingers twined through hers, palm to palm, nose to nose, hip to hip. “I told him if I could not have you, I would be useless."

  * * * *

  Solstice

  The day of the solstice, Challen found it ridiculously easy to send away her servants. Haneen was a little too helpful, pretending she wanted freedom to sneak away with Mynoch. Challen wondered who else knew about or suspected Elzan's visits.

  Court friends didn't press when she declined invitations to celebrate solstice with them. They thought she was nervous and preoccupied because her mourning would end at dawn. It seemed all Bainevah knew about Anbis’ insistence that she was destined to marry the Priest-King. Challen was not nervous or worried. Elzan had everything planned, including convincing Andorn to guard Challen during the entire three days of celebration. Elzan had rehearsed how he would tell the King that Challen carried his child, before Anbis arrived to present his demand.

  Challen did not fear for her safety. She lived in an odd bubble of calm that nothing could penetrate. The child inside her had been foreseen by her parents and they promised great good would come of this child. Nothing, not even the malicious power of Maquaos Shadowmaker, could prevent that birth.

  The entire city concentrated on preparing for the Sacred Marriage. The summer ritual would bring the rains and grant fertility to the crops. Couples would marry all across the land as bonfires encircled the city walls so the light reached up to the stars. Old married couples and courting couples and bridal couples joined hands and leaped over the fires and vanished into fields, forests, elegant chambers, and barns to celebrate.

  Elzan climbed down onto the balcony at sunset and waited until trumpets rang out from the Temple, where King Nebazz had joined hands with Amilia. He scooped up armfuls of the flowers there and joined Challen in her bedroom. He scattered the flowers over the bed before taking her into his arms.

  As the moon rose, they listened to the sounds of drums and singing, flutes and harps as the city continued to celebrate. In the morning, the King and Amilia would offer the sacrifice. In the morning, when Challen's mourning for her father ended, a flood of suitors would fall on her.

  While the city celebrated the sacrifice, she and Elzan would inform the King of the existence of their child. Then they would go to Chizhedek, join hands in the Temple and be married.

  "Tonight, all of Bainevah thinks about happiness and the future, not about war,” Elzan whispered. As he often did, he rested a hand on the now-visible bulge of the child inside her.

  "If only the whole world could stay in this day,” she whispered back. He brushed a kiss across her cheek and in moments they were asleep.

  Challen dreamed she held a child in her arms. A boy with red hair. The red locks moved, shifting and changing from scarlet to ember red to gold. They were flames, but she felt no heat, no fear. The boy looked at her with Elzan's eyes and pointed upward.

  Challen saw she stood before a dark building by the West Gate. The walls waved like a wheat field in a storm before harvest. She looked down as the child vanished, and saw men digging at the foundations of the wall.

  A massive shadow reared up into the sky, casting darkness across the city, the country, a black so all-encompassing, it swallowed everything. But then she looked closer and saw tiny spots of light moving about the streets.

  She knew those spots of light were shadows, bright in contrast to the darkness. Shadows of light cast by people who glowed from within. As they gathered together, the light of their souls grew stronger and merged into a wall of light that rose up in battle against the shadow that now looked like a man.

  "Maquaos Shadowmaker,” Challen whispered.

  A man stepped through the West Gate. He looked like Elzan, but his face was a twisted mask of anger, so she couldn't tell which prince he was. He cast no shadow amid the darkness. He flung a net at Challen and though she tried to leap out of the way, the net tangled around her. The shadow-man reached down enormous hands that swallowed all light, and curled icy fingers around her. She felt the child inside her writhe and die.

  "No!” she screamed, and bolted upright in bed.

  Elzan held her close, driving away the ice in her blood with the heat of his flesh. He waited until her shudders died, stroking her back, her hair, murmuring sounds of comfort.

  "Skataeroz—Maquaos knows about our baby,” she whispered. “He's coming for me. Now. One of your brothers is helping him. Taking him through the walls, past the guards. The West Gate."

  "Then Anath is the traitor, and we go to your grandfather to be married now.” His voice was too calm. She felt his muscles turn to stone under her hands. “Can you climb?"

  "Go over the roofs?” A choked burst of laughter escaped her. “I can do anything, tonight."

  Elzan dressed quickly and went to tell O'klan they were leaving. The faithful eunuch and six members of the Host of the Ram guarded Challen's door, and three more patrolled the gardens under her balcony. Before Elzan opened the bedroom door, O'klan called from the other side.

  "What's wrong?” Elzan demanded. He glanced at Challen, to make sure she was dressed, then flung the door open.

  King Nebazz and Queen Mayar stood in the other room. Challen's first thought was that neither one looked surprised to see Elzan in her bedroom.

  "My son.” The King's voice sounded strained, and Challen saw sparkles of laughter in his eyes. “When were you going to tell me of my grandchild? Do you know how hard it is to perform the Sacred Marriage after Mother Matrika tells me the news that should have come from you?” He fixed a mocking-stern gaze on Challen. “How can I ever trust you in the future, my Advisor, if you keep such secrets from me?"

  "Anbis,” Challen said. She regretted seeing the warmth and laughter flee both his and Queen Mayar's faces.

  "Hmm, yes.” He stepped back, allowing her to go through the doorway. The four settled at the table in Challen's workroom. “Mayar says you kept quiet so he wouldn't send assassins against Elzan or have someone poison you to kill the child—but you could have told me! Does your grandfather know?"

  "If the Mother told you, she probably told the High Priest, as well,” Elzan said sourly.

  "Were you two preparing to go somewhere?” Queen Mayar asked. She gestured at their clothes.

  Quickly, Elzan told about Challen's dream and his theory that Anath was the traitor, ready to order his Host to let Anbis and the Drevans into the city.

  "They could even be coming through the city at this moment, to take Challen tonight. We were preparing to flee to Chizhedek to be married, and to find sanctuary there."

  "They intended to be married at dawn,” Queen Mayar added. “Our enemy obviously knows about the child. If he catches Challen, he will kill the boy and take her prisoner. Great darkness will come from the child he forces her to give him. Nebazz, the fate of Bainevah rests on what we do before the sun rises."

  "Then we will go to the Temple.” He nodded slowly, looking Challen and Elzan over from head to toe. “May the Mother bless you both, and all Bainevah through you."

  "She will only bless us, Majesty, if we fully return to the true worship. One priestess, wife and queen to the king, and her son the king. When the old ways are re-established,” Challen continued, “then the Three will be restored and Maquaos Shadowmaker will no longer threaten our land."

  Doors banged open with a clap of thunder. Icy wind swirled through Challen'
s rooms and tore at the curtains. Darkness spun through the room.

  "Mother, give us light!"

  Challen heard her voice, felt the energy move through her fingertips, but someone else worked through her.

  The lamps flared brighter and the flames stood still despite the wind that tore at their clothes. The four hurried from her workroom into the main room, to meet the intruders. Challen could only spare one moment of concern for the guards and faithful O'klan, outside her door. Had they fallen to assassins, or to magic?

  "It is past midnight,” a man said in a sneering voice. “Your three moons of mourning are over, Kena'Shazzur. Submit now to the will of Skataeroz and bow to your lord and husband."

  "Anath,” Elzan growled, as three men stepped through the shattered door into Challen's quarters.

  Prince Anath was indeed the man from Challen's vision. A man in black and red robes, wearing a bull mask, stood in the middle of the three. Ambassador Anbis stood on his other side. The two men sneered at the four. Red light glowed in the eyeholes of the bull mask.

  "My promised bride.” The voice coming from inside the mask rang hollow, with the sound of the bleakest winter storm winds. He held out his black-gloved hands. “Come to me, and all these will live, despite their sins of denying the will of Skataeroz."

  "There was no promise made.” Challen felt the cold that yanked the breath from her mouth, but the power stirring deep inside her seemed to laugh at the feeble attempts to suck her life and mind away.

  "Skataeroz speaks. You are mine!"

  "Skataeroz is Maquaos, who was defeated more than once when he stood against Mother Matrika. You have no power here, no authority."

  "It is solstice,” Anbis sneered. “The days shorten. Darkness overcomes light. These days are ours."

  "Submit to me, or these die.” The Bull-man, the Priest-King of Dreva, gestured at Elzan and his parents, and blackness spun out from his hands like poisonous webs.

  Queen Mayar grasped Challen's hand and light sprang up from them. When the light touched the black shreds, it burst into flame. The cold in the room decreased.

  "Traitor,” King Nebazz said. A flicker of movement turned into a knife that flew across the room. Bone crunched.

  Anath opened his mouth to retort—and stopped, gagging, with a long knife lodged deep in his throat. He yanked at it, but the blade wouldn't move. He crumpled to his knees, gasping for breath, drowning in his own blood.

  "Mother Matrika, I am your servant, your vessel!” Challen shouted. Elzan grasped her other hand and she felt his love and strength flow into her like oil into a lamp.

  Light filled her eyes. It flowed up from deep inside her, blinding her to the room, driving away the cold, erasing all sound and sensation. For just a moment, she felt a flicker of terror for her baby, and what such a rushing river of power could do to the child. Then even that fear burned away under the flow of divine energy.

  Challen rose above the roofs of the palace, above the city, above the river plain where Bainevah nestled. The stars burned close enough to touch. The roaring of power in her ears and blood and lungs softened so she could hear the heartbeat of every living soul in Bainevah.

  Through that, she heard another sound that made her laugh aloud.

  A whining, nasty, childish voice cursed and screamed. Somewhere in the brightness, a tiny spot of darkness tried to resist the purifying fire. Maquaos struggled against Matrika's power, like a spoiled little boy who disobeyed and refused to take his punishment—and yet was punished despite all he said and did.

  "While you stayed outside my domain, you were safe,” Matrika said, her voice chiming as it bounced off the stars, rumbling with the power of volcanoes and rivers in flood. “You dared to invade my land. You dared to impose your will on those who had given themselves to me. The laws of the Unseen cannot be bent. All that is yours is now mine."

  With a sensation of a heavy door shutting, the sounds of protest suddenly vanished. Challen imagined Maquaos had been shut inside a room where he would spend eternity kicking at the floor and banging on the walls and generally behaving like a child having a tantrum.

  "If you had submitted in fear, or even to protect those you love,” Matrika whispered, “you would have given Maquaos the right to rule you, and through you, Bainevah. Well done, child of Naya. Queen and High Priestess and bearer of the light."

  Challen fell forever and the brightness blurred and her body returned to her, heavy and aching with weariness.

  "Challen?” Elzan held a cup to her lips. She sputtered and blinked and tried to sit upright. She took a deep breath and the stink of burning flesh filled her lungs.

  "It's over,” she whispered.

  "Indeed it is,” Queen Mayar said. “We heard and saw everything you did.” She pressed cool hands on either side of Challen's face and looked deep into her eyes.

  Challen blinked and took a deep breath and choked on the faint, greasy gray smoke in the air.

  "Are they ... gone?"

  "Burned beyond recognition,” King Nebazz said. “Priestess, you have authority over Dreva now, because you defeated the Priest-King, who was reputed to be immortal.” A dry chuckle escaped him. “That wretched, cold land is yours now. What do you say we should do with it?"

  "Teach them Matrika's laws and lead them into the light,” Challen whispered. She glanced at the three concerned faces all watching her. A weary smile touched her face. She felt as if she had gone through a long, draining fever. This was almost as bruising, mentally and physically, as her vision during the Sacred Marriage. “I think Mother Matrika would approve if I gave Dreva to my husband as a wedding gift."

  King Nebazz laughed. Not quite his hearty roar of approval, but the sound drove the waiting, uneasy quiet from the room.

  "My son, I suggest you take no concubines. Give your love no reason to ever doubt you."

  "I am married to the High Priestess of Matrika,” Elzan said, and paused to lift Challen's hand to his lips. He kissed palm and back and the warmth in his eyes made her heart leap. “Do you really think anyone will have the audacity to give me a concubine?"

  "None at all,” Queen Mayar said. She slid both hands down to rest on Challen's belly. “I can sense no harm, but I think you had best find a bed as soon as possible."

  "No,” Challen said. “I'm not going to bed until I'm married to the father of my child.” She tried to smile, despite the silent cry of protest that her body gave when she started to stand. “Besides, Grandfather needs to be told what's happened."

  "I hardly think the High Priest of Matrika needs to be told. The flow of power, the battle of the demi-gods, is rather hard to miss,” King Nebazz said dryly.

  "Not that.” She sighed as Elzan slid an arm tight around her waist and took all her weight onto himself. “I need to tell him he's going to be a great-grandfather. Even if he knows already. He deserves that."

  * * * *

  Dawn had nearly come by the time they reached the Temple. Servants and guards removed the burned corpses and the destruction around Challen's quarters. Soldiers tended the prisoners taken in the battle between Anath's supporters and Challen's guards. O'klan caught up with them in the palace courtyard, his robes torn, bandages on one arm, but grinning with delighted triumph.

  The three men walked, leading horses so Mayar and Challen could ride, rather than waiting for sedan chairs to be brought.

  "Majesty,” Elzan said, when they had left the palace behind and had some semblance of privacy again. “If my Mother has always been your one love, and as she says, you always intended to give me the crown, why did you wait to marry her?"

  "She refused to marry me. I asked her the day you were born,” King Nebazz said. “I asked her many times over the years, and she kept refusing me! I was beginning to despair of her ever saying yes, until Mother Matrika designated you Crown Prince. Then she finally couldn't say no."

  Challen gasped, choking on laughter. Surely she hadn't heard right.

  "By the time you were born,
” Queen Mayar said, “there were four other concubines, all gifts your father couldn't refuse. Two announced they were pregnant before your birth. I felt you were safer from all those nasty intrigues among the concubines if your status stayed uncertain."

  "I think you refused because being Queen of Bainevah would take too much from your duties as Healer Priestess,” Challen offered.

  "It won't be such a great burden, child,” she said, her voice serene but mischief in her eyes. “You and I will share the duties. And before they grow too onerous, we will both be saved by the arrival of your child."

  Elzan made a choking sound. Before Challen could even wonder what he was thinking, they arrived in the temple courtyard. Chizhedek waited on the steps, surrounded by priests and priestesses. Every torch and lamp was lit. Hundreds of people crowded the courtyard, and they parted to create an aisle for the royal family to approach the steps. Chizhedek smiled and held his arms out wide and embraced Challen when Elzan helped her down from the horse.

  "Mother Matrika has spoken,” the High Priest called, and his voice boomed across the courtyard, echoing, so Challen thought all Bainevah could hear. “The Sanctum is abolished. The Sacred Marriage is once again a true marriage between king and land, between the King and High Priestess. Healing comes to Bainevah. Light conquers darkness. Life destroys death. Tonight, our enemy is vanquished forever. Today, the true Sacred Marriage will be made and through these two faithful servants of Matrika will come fertility and life, health, healing and prosperity."

  The gathered people erupted in shouts and cheers. Challen looked up into her grandfather's eyes and saw tears there.

  Elzan wrapped his arms around her from behind and drew her away from Chizhedek. His breath was warm on her neck. She felt the beating of his heart against her back. They had only been together for half a year, and she knew in the years to come they would only grow closer, more attuned, more united—and yet she couldn't stretch her mind beyond the enormity of what they had accomplished together.

  Shazzur had warned her that from those who carried great gifts and powers and wisdom, much would be demanded. Challen knew better than to rest and assume their battles had ended with this one victory. There were other enemies of Bainevah, other demi-gods who would try to step into the vacancy left by Maquaos, other nations who would not rest until they ruled all other nations. Challen knew in the struggles and years to come, she and Elzan would be together, and that was reward and blessing enough for all eternity.