Rozite was the only child in the ilian of Stone's siring. Not for lack of trying. He filled the beds of all the women in their ilian, though most nights he slept on the other side of Viyelle from Joh. Aisse, who had been barren when she joined the ilian, liked babies. She had given four to the ilian so far. Viyelle had given two. And when the children were born and their bloodlines read, none of them had been sired by Stone.
Kallista would not have thought that Stone, being a Tibran raised in their caste system before the destruction wrought by the demon Tchyrizel had shattered it, would care whether he had children of his own blood and seed. But apparently he did. And the portrait did look a bit like Rozite, made boyish.
“So?” Kallista looked up at Obed's cousin, away from the portrait, trying to stifle her hope for fear of disappointment. “Who is this?"
“He is a servant.” Thalassa watched their faces as she spoke. Kallista hoped they didn't show anything they did not want the Southron woman to know, though what that could be, she wasn't sure.
Thalassa kept talking. “He and his mother appeared, working as bound servants in the House of the Habadra Line some half a year before this caravan departed Daryath. She is a healer, as our cousin informed us, and the boy looks as you see him there."
Kallista glanced up at Obed. She had no guess as to how long it would take for a caravan to reach Arikon.
“About ten weeks,” he murmured, as if reading her mind. “Ninety days."
“Have you any other messages, Thalassa Cousin?” Kallista tried to contain her impatience.
“Only that my grandmother, your aunt, adds her personal invitation to the invitation of the en-Kameral to come to Daryath. It is time our families became better acquainted."
Instead of a single ruler, Daryath was governed by the en-Kameral, a group made up of representatives from the Hundred Lines, the elite families of Daryath. They were from various cities and sectors of the countryside, certain segments of society, and intended to represent them. For instance, the Shakiri Line were primarily merchants and traders.
Obed was able to tell her little more. Not only was he male in that very matriarchal society, but he'd been sent away from Daryathi society and shut up in that skola of his to become a dedicat champion—whatever that was. He still hadn't explained it to her satisfaction.
He didn't know the nuances of Daryathi power or government. But from all Kallista had been able to gather in her encounters with Daryathi delegations and the little Obed had told her, the Lines mostly represented themselves. Meetings of the en-Kameral were more chaotic than the meeting of the selectors in Adara.
Of course, the selectors only met perhaps once every ten to twenty years, and there were only fifty-seven of them—the prinsep and the head prelate from each of the twenty-seven prinsipalities plus the head prelates from the cities of Arikon, Turysh and Ukiny. And when they did meet, they only had one task: to select the next Reinine after the death of the previous one. Although Kallista's selection had taken only a few hours, hers was the exception. Virtually every other time in the past, the selectors had taken weeks to decide.
Daryath had one hundred Kameri, and they met daily to decide every aspect of the governance of their state. From Kallista's short experience, they decided very little, and half the time they changed their next decision back to the way it had been before. One thing they seemed to be set on, however. They wanted Kallista to make a state visit to their country.
Adara had restricted trade with Daryath since early in Serysta's reign. Traders were advised not to leave the coastal trade cities to enter the interior. The desert land bordered by mountains could be deadly to those unfamiliar with its natural hazards. The religious fanaticism of the inhabitants could be just as dangerous. Most traders heeded the warnings because the coastal trade was profitable enough, but those who did not—few of them returned. Daryath wanted the visit to open trade again.
Until now, Kallista had always declined to leave Adara. In the early days of her rule—and didn't the sound of that
still
make her uncomfortable—the last remnants of the rebellion had needed crushing. Then the Barbs had proved as stubborn and elusive as they had been through the long centuries their heresy had persisted. And Kallista had feared putting herself out of reach of news of their missing ilias and child. Now, however—
“Thank you, Cousin. We will consider it. Perhaps this year, we will come.” She shifted into the role of cordial host. “Have our people treated you well? Your chambers are comfortable?"
“Yes, Your Majesty, most delightful.” Thalassa gave a small bow-ofgratitude. “I have everything I could need or desire."
“Excellent. You will dine with us at the high table tonight, of course. And come to us tomorrow after lunch, to meet our—” Kallista stumbled over her words. She really shouldn't say “children” before this disapproving Southroner, cousin or no. Obed had only given her one child. “Our son. We will have pastries and cha, and time to hear news of family."
Thalassa's face almost unbent, almost found a genuine smile, but didn't quite. “I look forward to it, Your Majesty."
She departed and Kallista had a moment of space to catch her breath. She turned to the others, but before she could open her mouth to speak, Joh did.
“I'll get the packing started and speak to the generals about the escort.” He'd been a lieutenant in the Adaran infantry, and was an organizational genius.
Kallista frowned at him. “What escort?"
“We are not going to Daryath without a troop escort,” Torchay said. “A big one."
“Did I say we were going to Daryath?"
“Didn't have to.” Fox winked a sightless eye at her. “You're not the only one who can pick things up through the links. Not after this long. Our sense of you may be dim, but it's definite."
“I'll get the children organized,” Aisse said. “Keldrey and I.” After four children in seven years, her figure had softened, but her fierce mother-tiger attitude was still the same, as was her short-cropped gold-blond hair.
“You're not takin’ them to Daryath.” Keldrey's outburst wasn't quite question, nor exactly protest, but something in between.
“I'm not leaving them here,” Kallista returned. “You weren't with us till after, the last time we separated. I swore then we'd never split up like that again, and we won't."
“You didn't have me then. I'm not marked. I can stay here, keep ‘em safe, and not mess up the magic."
“And what if, while we're gone, the demon comes here?” Kallista didn't want to think about it, but she had to. “No one here can protect against demons but us. If they're with us, we can keep them safe."
“Even if we're riding into a nest of demons?” Leyja sounded as skeptical as Keldrey.
“Even if,” Torchay said. “We're better off together."
“
Are
we riding into a nest of demons?” Stone asked.
Kallista took a deep breath. “I don't know. I haven't dreamed any. Gweric hasn't seen signs of them either. But the demon departed here riding Merinda. It could have left her, but what if it didn't? This is the first hint of either demon
or
Merinda we've had in six years. It could be coincidence that we get this news the day I make up my mind to take the battle to the demons, but somehow, I don't think so."
“Where did the murder knots come from?” Torchay looked at Obed. “Could they have been brought here, across the mountains?"
Obed inclined his head, acknowledging the possibility. “Daryathi politics are often deadly. I have not heard, myself, of such a thing, but my own involvement in politics tended to be both less frequent and more ... direct."
“So.” Kallista surveyed her iliasti, catching the gaze of each one, as well as sifting through the feelings the links gave her. “We are agreed? We go to Daryath to see whether this is our ilias and our child, and whether the demon is still with them."
Not all of them nodded, but they all agreed.
“When do we go?” Joh asked, his eyes already far away, seeing what lay inside his head as he calculated lists of supplies and personnel. He snagged a quill from the nearest worktable and a scrap of parchment, his waist-length queue sliding forward over his shoulder as he stretched to reach it.
“Within the week, if possible."
“Let's say on Firstday next. Quickest route south that's possible.” Joh made his first note to himself.
Kallista clapped Torchay on the shoulder. “Come, bodyguard. Let's go break the good news to the Daryathi delegation."
Chapter Three
Sun beat down on the caravan jingling along the dusty road. Leyja tucked the cloth that veiled her face against the fine gritty dust more securely beneath the wide-brimmed hat she wore to protect from the fierce rays of the sun. Her skin, like that of their other northern iliasti, burned red in mere moments under this Southron sun, even as summer waned.
But the Tibrans and even Joh and Viyelle turned brown after the burnt skin flaked away. Only Leyja and Torchay with their red hair, and oddly, Kallista, though her hair was nearly as dark as Obed's, continued to burn without ever tanning. The need for protection was a nuisance, but at least Leyja could easily shed the loose robes she wore against the sun if she needed to fight.
She sent her gaze sweeping across the family group again, counting children. Leyja considered it a gift of the One that they had traveled so far and not lost any. The journey down the Alira River to the wide Taolind at Turysh and on along the great river to the sea had been marked by enough “accidental” plunges into the water and forbidden explorations ashore that Kallista had been forced to cobble together a sort of magical leash to use on the wild creatures.
It allowed her to pinpoint the location of each child with only a moment's thought, kept them from straying more than ten paces from their bodyguard or nursemaid, and set up an alarm if any tumbled into danger. During the sea voyage along the eastern coast from Ukiny to Kushma in Daryath, it had alerted them when Omri had goaded his same-age sedil, River, Aisse and Fox's son, into the rigging ten paces
above
his bodyguard. That was merely the most alarming incident.
After that, Kallista had tightened her warding and the adults had heightened their guarding.
The rest of the voyage had been—relatively—peaceful, as had the journey by horseback along the Iyler, the great river of the south. This time of year, in fall, the river was too low for even the local lightweight reed boats once they left the coast.
The size of their caravan had kept bandit attacks away, though sneak thieves had been tempted by its richness. The regular troops had been kept busy guarding the wealth. The bodyguards’ duties had been lighter. Leyja's own rest had remained undisturbed during the entire journey. But that did not alter her vigilance, especially now, as they neared the Daryathi capital city of Mestada and the end of the journey.
Leyja was a bodyguard. First and foremost, she protected those in her charge, with her life if necessary. She had done it well when it had been mere duty, but now, when she did it for love—She shook herself all over, like a horse shaking away flies, banishing the fear that any harm would come to these.
Many Adaran women joined the army as a way out of poverty, a way to succeed and advance and live well, if not wealthy. Few of them joined the ranks of the bodyguards because the training was difficult and the life was risky. That was why Leyja had done it. To prove that she could.
She'd been too tall and too thin in her girlhood, and book learning had been difficult for her. The only thing she had was determination. Because she refused to give up when things got hard and because eventually, her body filled out and learned to do what she demanded of it, Leyja had become a bodyguard. She had moved up rapidly, becoming bodyguard to the Reinine herself.
At that moment, when the Reinine had held out her hand in greeting and smiled, Leyja fell in love. She had loved Serysta Reinine with a pure and silent love for a double hand of years. The day that love blossomed, when Leyja had learned not only did Serysta love her in return, but that she wanted her in the same way she wanted Keldrey and the others was the day Leyja learned what joy truly was.
And the day Serysta Reinine died in her arms was the day Leyja learned about pain. It was also the day Leyja was marked by the One and she learned the consolation and comfort of God. Gradually the numbness and grief wore away and Leyja woke to realize she loved again.
It wasn't the same wild emotion, with the ecstatic highs, bottomless lows and desperate passion, because Leyja wasn't the same. Those she loved were different also—save for Keldrey and she'd always felt as much amused exasperation as affection for him. This love didn't burn. It warmed. It healed. Even the passion she'd found with Aisse comforted rather than consumed.
Perhaps it was because the object of Leyja's passion and the object of her devotion were not the same. Leyja loved Kallista in a different fashion than she loved Aisse. Kallista was Reinine. She was naitan.
She could forge the metal of their magic into any tool that was needed, from shield to healer's needle to sword. Then she could take that magic and twine it around and through the marked ones without even touching—though it was better when they did touch—and make them scream with the pleasure of it.
And then there were the children.
Leyja's gaze passed over the children again, always moving, registering everything as she scanned their surroundings. The grain fields were stubbled dun after harvest. Other fields looked to be covered with rows of dead, brown, snow-filled brush. Harvest-ready cotton, according to Keldrey, who'd grown up in the warm southern plains of Adara.
Between road and river, the fields held sway, even as they neared the city. To their right, away from the muddy river banks, the cottages and homes of farmers and small villagers gave way to large sandstone-andgranite estates. The workers in the fields were servants now rather than owners of the land.
The sand-colored walls of Mestada loomed before them. The Daryathi government, abetted by the diplomats Kallista had had to bring along, wanted them to camp outside the city walls overnight so they could enter the city in a grand processional parade. Kallista had refused.