The Serpent Bride

by Sara Douglass

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The FarReach Mountains, Southern Kyros

  StarDrifter sat numbed. It was late at night, and he stared across the campfire to Salome’s blanketed form. Everyone was asleep—or pretending sleep—save himself, BroadWing and Maximilian, both of whom sat with him, conversing in low tones as they shared a flask of wine.

  Earlier Maximilian and Venetia had spent some time with Salome. StarDrifter did not know what they had said to her, but she’d eaten some food before lying down on the mattress of heath that SongFlight had made for her, and pulled a blanket to her shoulders, and StarDrifter supposed she was now asleep.

  “Salome will be accompanying us,” Maximilian said.

  “Maximilian—” StarDrifter began.

  “What else do you suggest?” Maximilian said. “That we leave her here?”

  “I wasn’t going to suggest that,” StarDrifter snapped. “Only that I take responsibility for her. That I can do for her, at least.”

  “If she will accept it,” BroadWing muttered.

  “Good,” said Maximilian, “that’s one less problem I need to worry about.” There was a glint of white as he smiled. “And I admit to feeling relieved that Salome is now your responsibility, StarDrifter. Do try to keep her from murdering you.”

  StarDrifter touched his cheek gingerly. “If she was going to murder, I think she would have done so already.”

  “Today has been quite the day for surprises,” BroadWing said. “If WolfStar is Salome’s father, then should we fear her?”

  WolfStar had caused mayhem, misery, and destruction among the Icarii, and even though now everyone believed him dead (finally), even the mention of his name caused most Icarii to shudder in horror.

  StarDrifter gave a slight shrug. “I doubt it. Azhure was also WolfStar’s daughter, and she was not to be feared.”

  “And you are Salome’s grandfather,” Maximilian said. “I have heard that the Icarii do not regard incest with the same degree of approbation as other races…but even so, StarDrifter, to sleep with your granddaughter, and to father a child on her…”

  Both BroadWing and StarDrifter looked at Maximilian in some mild surprise.

  “Well, neither knew at the time,” said BroadWing.

  “For gods’ sakes,” said Maximilian. “You know now! It doesn’t give you any pause for thought?”

  “It is not a problem for us,” said BroadWing, glancing at StarDrifter before he spoke, almost as if he wanted permission to respond. “Only sexual relations between first blood—parents and children, and between siblings—is forbidden.”

  Maximilian gave a somewhat bewildered shake of his head. “Still…I find it strange. And what is this baby to you, StarDrifter? Child…or great-grandchild?”

  “Child,” said StarDrifter. He paused, thinking. “Salome was willing, Maximilian—”

  “But she had no idea then that she slept with her grandfather!”

  StarDrifter gave a faint smile. “And even had she known then,” he said, “it would have given her little cause for hesitation, save to add a certain tang to proceedings.”

  And how different Salome was to Zenith, StarDrifter thought, remembering how he’d pursued Zenith, and yet she could never overcome her own repulsion at sharing flesh with her grandfather. Maybe it was WolfStar’s blood in Salome.

  His smile widened, just fractionally, remembering that first time he and Salome had coupled. That frantic, desperate union had been the mad, bad SunSoar blood roiling to the surface. They had not been able to resist each other.

  Then StarDrifter’s smile faded. And how sad that Zenith had not shared either the madness or the badness.

  “Do you know,” said BroadWing, “that today has given me more hope for our future than any other day in the past five years. The Icarii have drifted directionless for all these years. We have lost the majority of our people. We have lost our homeland. We have lost our enchantment. We have lost the Star Dance. We have lost all purpose. And now? Now suddenly the SunSoars are back. We have our Talon, and his—”

  “For the stars’ sakes, BroadWing,” StarDrifter said. “Let this go, I beg you. I am no more your Talon than—”

  BroadWing leaned over and gripped StarDrifter’s forearm. “You are our Talon, StarDrifter! Accept it! You have enjoyed the benefits of SunSoar blood all these centuries, and you will now accept the responsibility of it. The Icarii are desperate. Desperate! You—yes, curse it, you—now have the responsibility, the blood, and the experience to give the Icarii direction and purpose and leadership and a home. Your responsibility, StarDrifter. Yours.”

  StarDrifter wrenched his arm free. “Me? Me? Look at me, BroadWing. I’ve never accepted responsibility. I am just feckless StarDrifter—and, oh, how my parents named me well, drifting aimlessly, taking pleasure in nothing but pleasure, and sowing aimless seeds of destruction as I went. Have you forgot who fathered Gorgrael? Who—”

  “Who fathered Axis,” said BroadWing, his voice calm and even.

  “Axis was no savior,” StarDrifter said. “He was a golden hero who restored the Icarii and Tencendor, but who then allowed everything to slide into bleakness again.”

  “And that is why I am here now, arguing with you,” BroadWing said. “Axis was never the man to lead the Icarii, but I think you are.”

  StarDrifter gave a soft, hollow laugh.

  “I have seen you at your very best and at your very worst,” BroadWing said. “I know to what extremes of dissipation you can sink, and the heights to which you can rise.”

  “And today you have seen me at my very worst,” StarDrifter said. “How then can you sit here and argue so passionately that I have the qualities for Talon?”

  “I think today he has seen you at your very best,” Maximilian put in quietly.

  “Maximilian is right,” BroadWing said. “You stood there before Salome and accepted responsibility for your actions. I know enough about what happened in Coroleas that I am well aware that you could very easily have shifted blame onto Ba’al’uz, but you didn’t. You accepted whatever Salome chose to deal you. That was the action of a mature man, StarDrifter. Not some feckless, uncaring dissipate. And I have seen you in…”

  BroadWing’s voice broke, and he had to pause and clear his throat. “I was present in the Assembly Chamber of Talon Spike that day, so many vast years ago, when you addressed the assembled Icarii race. Do you remember it, StarDrifter? Do you remember that day?”

  StarDrifter took a moment to answer. “I sang for you. I sang of the Wars of the Axe, of how the Icarii had come to be imprisoned in the Icescarp Alps.”

  “And you sang of hope, and of how the Icarii could rise again, and regain that which was lost. Stars, StarDrifter, you had the entire Icarii race in tears, you held them in the palm of your hand, you owned us. That day was when you and RavenCrest, your brother, and our Talon at the time, persuaded us to accept Axis as our StarMan.”

  BroadWing’s voice dropped very low. “But you were so astounding, so powerful, that we would have done anything that day, StarDrifter. Anything for you. You were extraordinarily beautiful and powerful, and you reminded us of how extraordinarily beautiful and powerful we could be. You can do that again.” An infinitesimal pause. “You must.”

  StarDrifter said nothing.

  “You take Salome,” BroadWing said, “and you take that child, and you rebuild the SunSoar dynasty, and you rebuild the Icarii pride and race. You lead us to a new homeland, and back into the Star Dance, StarDrifter, or else we will all perish in hopelessness.”

  “I am a hopeless messiah,” StarDrifter said.

  “You are all we have,” BroadWing said, and he smiled. “And you will be more than enough.”

  “And Salome,” StarDrifter said, his words argumentative, but his voice now resigned. “She is hardly likely to—”

  “Salome is the best wife you could ever hope for,” BroadWing said. “I have heard of her cruelty and dissipation, but today we saw the better part of her, too
. Salome did not accuse or attack you for what happened to her, for what she had lost, but for her son—the loss of his life and future.”

  “She has great strength,” put in Maximilian, earning himself a black glance from StarDrifter.

  “And I think she has great compassion,” Maximilian added, softly, daring StarDrifter to throw him another look.

  “Salome is a far better mate for you than Rivkah ever was,” said Broad-Wing, naming the Acharite princess on whom StarDrifter had fathered Axis, “or Azhure, or her and Axis’ daughter, Zenith, or any other of the women you have thought to have loved. Fate…no…I am prepared to say stronger here, the Star Dance, has led her to you, and you to her, and then the both of you back to the Icarii people. Take a deep breath, right now, StarDrifter, and accept both Salome and the Talon torc of leadership.”

  Maximilian watched StarDrifter curiously, wondering what he would do.

  The Icarii prince sat in silence for a long time, staring across the fire to where Salome lay; then, without looking at BroadWing, he held out his hand to the birdman, and BroadWing gripped it.

  They held the grip for a long moment, then both let go and sat back, and Maximilian passed them the flask of wine.

  So passed the leadership of the Icarii to StarDrifter SunSoar.

  The three men sat there for another hour in silence, occasionally taking sips of wine.

  Finally StarDrifter rose, and went to Salome.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The FarReach Mountains, Southern Kyros

  Salome was too emotionally and physically exhausted to sleep. She lay there, drifting between wakefulness and drowsiness, listening to the murmur of voices coming from across the campfire, and turning over in her mind the events of the day.

  It had not eventuated quite as she’d expected.

  Salome wasn’t quite sure what she had expected, for she’d never been precisely clear in her own mind about what she would do to StarDrifter when she found him, but today’s events hadn’t fitted any of her imagined scenarios.

  She had expected StarDrifter to justify and excuse and evade, and he’d done none of those things.

  She’d expected him to strike back at her, to be angry and judgmental, and he’d done none of those things, either.

  She had never imagined, never, the revelations the day would bring.

  He was Embeth’s unknown lover.

  StarDrifter was her grandfather.

  That had numbed Salome as nothing else could have.

  StarDrifter was the lover who had deserted Embeth, who had left her to die birthing his child.

  Salome felt as if this should make her hate him even more.

  But, astoundingly, it didn’t. Perhaps that was because all her emotions appeared utterly dead.

  The naming of her father meant nothing to her. Salome supposed she’d heard the name WolfStar somewhere, but she’d paid so little attention to the world beyond the intrigues of the Corolean court that she could not recall what she’d heard.

  “Would you like me to tell you about WolfStar?” StarDrifter said softly behind her, and Salome jumped, her heart pounding painfully.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, for what must have been the hundredth time that day. “I startled you. I thought you were awake.”

  He sat down on the ground beside her. “Do you mind if I share the blanket, and your hearth bedding?”

  Salome couldn’t believe he’d ask that. She struggled to rouse some indignant anger, but she was so spent that she couldn’t raise the effort, and so when StarDrifter took her silence for assent and lifted the blanket and crawled under beside her, pulling her back against his body, all she could manage was an affronted stiffness.

  At least she had her back to him, but all that meant was that StarDrifter could curl the more effectively about her own body.

  “WolfStar lived many thousands of years ago,” StarDrifter said, very softly. Salome thought he was infusing his voice with something else. A melody perhaps. Was he trying to fool her with some Icarii trickery?

  Trickery or not, as StarDrifter continued speaking the gentle melody in his voice soothed away both her irritation and stiffness, and she gradually relaxed against his warmth.

  This wasn’t how she’d envisioned ending this day, either.

  “He was then, and remains to this day, the most powerful Enchanter the Icarii had ever produced,” StarDrifter continued.

  “He was a SunSoar?” Salome asked, surprising herself with her interest.

  “Yes. And Talon. An Enchanter-Talon.” StarDrifter laughed very softly, washing warm breath over the back of her neck. “Enchanter-Talons have ever been the most troublesome to the Icarii people. I can’t think why Broad-Wing now wants another one.”

  The last meant nothing to Salome, but she did not comment.

  “WolfStar developed a fascination with the Star Dance,” StarDrifter continued. His arm, where it lay about her waist, tightened fractionally. “Do you know what that is, Salome? Have you ever felt it?”

  “No,” she said, and StarDrifter sighed, fanning more breath against her neck.

  “You are an Enchanter as well, Salome,” he said. “Hasweb was undoubtedly one, too. Your lives should for many years have been dictated by the Star Dance—the music the stars make in their dance about the heavens. That music infiltrated every aspect of our lives, our very souls, and Enchanters used it to weave such magic…

  “Ah, but all that was lost during the devastation of the wars of the Timekeeper Demons. They destroyed the Star Gate, through which the music of the stars filtered, and we lost the Star Dance. That happened some five or six years ago, so you must have lived for twenty-five years or more with the Star Dance washing about you. Are you sure you have never—”

  “I have never felt a thing. It means nothing to me.”

  “Well, anyway, WolfStar wanted to step through the Star Gate and allow the music of the Star Dance to consume him completely. To cut a long story short, he did. He vanished through the Star Gate, and for thousands of years the Icarii people assumed he’d died. But, no. He came back, more powerful and dreadful than ever before, and created mayhem and disaster among the peoples of Tencendor. If the land perished, then it was largely due to his machinations.”

  “You are afraid of him.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “And now? Is he dead? Wandering about?”

  “Dead. I hope.” Again StarDrifter gave a soft laugh. “But one never assumes that death can hold WolfStar forever.”

  “I have a powerful father, then.” There, thought Salome. A powerful father, but not a powerful grandfather.

  “Aye,” StarDrifter said, and did not sound affronted at all. “Very powerful indeed.”

  “Then should you be afraid of me?”

  “Very much so,” StarDrifter said, and Salome frowned at the teasing note in his voice.

  “Salome,” StarDrifter said, before she could speak, “I have been a wandering, dissipated fool most of my life. I have loved women, and destroyed women. I have failed many people. Perhaps with you I can make a fresh—”

  “Don’t try to pretend we have a—”

  StarDrifter’s hand slid under the loosened waistband of her trousers and then over the warm skin of her slightly rounded belly.

  “This is not pretense, Salome. Tell me, did you not think to discard the child? I am sure you must have known how.”

  She was silent.

  He sang a little snatch of melody, very softly, and she drew in a sharp breath.

  A sense of peace had washed over her with that melody, and as she exhaled the breath, she relaxed entirely against his body.

  “I knew as soon as you said you were pregnant,” StarDrifter said, his mouth now almost against the skin at the back of her neck, “that this child would be my get, and not the product of your rapes. BroadWing said fate bound us together, Salome. I think BroadWing has a somewhat remarkable perceptivity.”

  Again, that snatch of melody, and Salome closed
her eyes as they filled with sudden tears.

  “It is a son, Salome,” StarDrifter said. “An Enchanter. And,” Salome could feel his mouth curl in a smile against her neck, “a peaceful and happy child. An heir to everything we have both lost.”

  Salome thought StarDrifter was being terribly presumptuous with that last remark, but now she was so comfortable, so warm, and so peaceful, that drowsiness was finally achieving dominion over her body.

  “Mmmm,” she murmured—and then shivered as StarDrifter kissed the back of her neck.

  “Sleep,” he whispered.

  The Weeper lay a few feet away, forgotten by both Salome and StarDrifter.

  As they fell into sleep, StarDrifter still curled about Salome’s body, the Weeper began to ice over.

  It spent all night encased in ice, engaged in such a powerful magic that even the ground beneath it froze solid.

  In the morning, when the camp stirred, the Weeper lay in a small puddle of water, condensation sliding down its body.

  No one paid any attention.

  When Salome awoke—the last of the camp to rise—it was to find that StarDrifter had left a mug of tea and a wedge of warmed bread slathered with butter and red beet and onion chutney by her side.

  Salome sat up and ate the food.

  It was the best breakfast she could ever remember having eaten.

  When she rose to her feet, brushing away the remaining crumbs of the bread, she winced as something caught in her back.

  A muscle, she thought, grown cold and stiff during her long night’s unmoving slumber.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The Palace of Aqhat, Isembaard

  Today Isaiah was holding his Spectacle. Axis knew of two other occasions Isaiah had held a Spectacle since he’d been in Isembaard, but Axis had not been invited to either of those formal courts. They had been held during his early days in Isembaard when Isaiah had tended to keep Axis very much in his private sphere. Today, however, Axis had received a request to attend.