Lady Warhawk (13 page)

"Let them in," she called up to the sentinel at the gate, before the people outside could
respond to the challenge. She caught a glimpse of the man's face in the tower window, pale in the
torchlight. Meghianna smiled tightly, sure the man was startled to have the Queen of Snows
intervene. Or was he simply startled to see the Queen of Snows at all? The groaning of the
massive gates and the raising of the portcullis broke into her thoughts.

Pirkin and Ynessa rode at the head of the group, with their sons guarding the perimeter
of the group of wagons, looking after the women and children. The Warhawk had sent more than
enough supplies and equipment and horses for them to ride in comfort and arrive in safety. No
amount of luxury could wipe away the emotional scarring that clung to the royal family of
Goarlotte like a dark, sticky cloud. Meghianna hurried forward to meet Ynessa and held up her
arms. The younger woman slid into her embrace. She didn't weep, but she trembled.

"My thanks," Pirkin said, after dismounting and handing the reins to one of the many
servants who hurried forward to attend to the newcomers. "Where is--"

"I'm here, lad." Mrillis stepped into the lantern light that spilled down from the walls
and wrapped his arms tight around Pirkin. "It seems I can never do enough to make up to
you--"

"No, Grandfather." Pirkin pulled back a little, putting Mrillis at arms' length, but he
gripped his shoulders. "I learned long ago to stop blaming you for the evil choices others make.
We will continue to be harmed for choosing to do what is right. But why should we give the
enemy the power to dictate our actions? We must do what is right, we must help the defenseless
and fight evil, no matter how we are hurt, because to stand back and allow evil to flourish--" He
choked for a moment, and held out a hand, and Ynessa came into his arms. "To do nothing is to
give evil permission to grow. Our enemy took Ynfara. We will always have her face before our
eyes when we ride out to battle. Her death is their fault, not yours and not ours. We have to
remember that."

"Let an old man mourn and find some comfort in blaming himself, would you?" Mrillis
said on a sigh, with a shrug. Ynessa let out a choked little sound that might have been an attempt
at laughter. Pirkin smiled grimly and nodded.

Darkness spun up from the middle of the front wagon, a weirdly glowing funnel, wider
at the bottom than the top. Meghianna felt the sting like poison in the air, spilling out on them,
and turned to face the twisting, burning mass that threatened to snap the protective Threads
around the Goarlotte refugees.

Mrillis stepped up beside her, spreading physical and mental hands to grasp the
endangered Threads. "Get everyone out of the courtyard!" he shouted. He glanced at Meghianna,
and she instantly understood what he wanted.

She wrapped layers of protection around everyone and shoved them toward the doors
into the fortress. Valors on duty came running, their star-metal jewelry, knives, and belt buckles
glowing in reaction to the presence of evil magic.

The funnel splintered and deeper darkness spilled out, reaching for Mrillis. Meghianna
stepped up closer to him, gathering all she had to throw up a shield. The lance of evil magic,
stinging with the taint of blood magic intertwined with the Threads, shot between them, going
past them.

Athrar!
She turned, still seeing in her mind's eye the six boys amusing
themselves with the new warhorses.

Lok and Athrar stood side-by-side, arms linked, their star-metal ring and chain glowing
with blinding brilliance. Grim determination and fear twisted their faces into the masks of
battle-hardened men. Meghianna had just enough time to realize they were using the shielding spell she
had taught them less than a moon ago. The malevolent spear of magic hit the shield--and
bounced off it. The boys staggered back, eyes widening in amazement and glee, mixed with the
terrified realization that they had taken on a far greater danger than they could handle.

Together, boys,
Mrillis ordered, and flung out Threads to wrap around them and
bring their
imbrose
into partnership with his and Meghianna's. The four of them created
a circle, ensnaring the purple and black Threads that pulsed out from the funnel. Each time a
tongue of evil magic tried to snap at Athrar, Meghianna or Mrillis battered it back. With each
heartbeat, their cage of Threads grew smaller and tighter and squeezed the power from the funnel
until it split and crumbled.

A final rumble and a crackling sound spattered against the walls of the courtyard.
Meghianna felt her knees wobble. She wiped the sweat from her face and opened her physical
eyes. The four of them stood in a loose circle in the middle of the courtyard. Pirkin and his
family and servants stood at the far side, near the doors into the fortress, which suddenly burst
open and more Valors spilled out, led by Efrin, with Braenlicach glowing bright blue and gold
and red in his hand.

Lycen peered out of the stable doors. He held the reins of both warhorses in one hand,
and his free arm still stuck out as a barrier, keeping Megassa's other three boys behind him. Lok
turned and looked around at that same moment, and the stunned, guilty look on his face told
Meghianna he had just realized that he had left his brothers defenseless.

"Athrar?" Efrin sheathed Braenlicach as he hurried across the pavement.

"Your son did well," Mrillis said.

"What happened?" He looked at the shattered remains of the wagon where the spell had
emerged, then to Meghianna. "Meggi? Are you all right?" Efrin stopped with one hand resting on
Athrar's shoulder. Then a moment later, the pause barely noticeable, he rested the other hand on
Lok's shoulder. The boy stood up straighter and his chest stuck out a little in reaction, and
Meghianna almost smiled at the boy's delight.

"We're all fine, Papa." She rubbed at her face again. "I would hazard a guess the spell
has been there since you sent aid to Goarlotte. The enemy had to guess they would come here,
and thought they could sneak it in, to release when we least expected an attack."

"It went after me," Athrar said. "I was the trip cord."

Glyssani and a stream of women reached the courtyard. The queen didn't cry out and
threaten to faint like some of the Court women, when they heard what had happened. She did go
pale and reach for Athrar, and he didn't look at all ashamed to go into his mother's arms.
Megassa's appearance brought her four boys running, the younger three excited and babbling all
the details of the battle they had witnessed. Lok was grimly silent, and he paused as he passed
Lycen, to hold out his hand to shake the other boy's hand.

"I'm sorry," Meghianna whispered, as she put her arms around Lycen and drew him
close for a tight hug.

"For what?" Her son's voice cracked a little.

"For not thinking of you first."

"We were in a battle. Captain Ector always says to tend to the danger first, your friends
second."

"Oh, you did that, indeed. Well done, my darling." She kissed his forehead, and had the
bitter-sweet satisfaction of seeing his face redden in momentary embarrassment. "Lycen, I know
you know our circumstances have changed, but--"

"Thrarin is the Warhawk's heir, and his safety comes first. And you are the Queen of
Snows, and your duties are more important than being my mother. I know."

"No, that's not it at all." She sighed and closed her eyes a moment, more weary than she
could explain even to herself. "No, that's not quite true. That is some of the explanation, but... I
am your mother, and that will always be the most important thing in my life. But yes, I am
Queen of Snows, and I have pledged before the Estall to put the good of the land first. The safety
of thousands ahead of my own dearest desires. And sometimes, I have to trust you to take care of
yourself, so I can look after everyone else in the world. Even though I would dearly love to keep
you a little boy who can curl up on my lap and let me kiss away his scrapes and
nightmares."

"I'm a little big for sitting on your lap," the boy muttered, reddening again. But from the
upward curve of one corner of his mouth, Meghianna thought he wasn't totally embarrassed, and
maybe he did understand.

"You took care of the younger boys. That was smart, clear thinking."

"Indeed it was," Megassa said, coming over to join them with her boys trailing behind
her. "My scamps wanted to fight, once they got over the shock of what happened, but I think
they have enough wits to know they weren't ready for battle. Thank you, nephew." She rested a
hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

"That was my job, looking after my brothers," Lok added. He held out his hand again to
Lycen. "Thank you."

"You looked after my brother," Lycen said. "I looked after yours. I call that even."

"Come along, all of you," Megassa said. "I think your grandfather will be calling a
council of war and that will take all night. Everyone will stay in my quarters tonight and you can
talk as long as you want about your first
imbrose
battle. How does that sound?" She
winked at her sister, and spread her arms, gathering all the boys to her.

Meghianna was relieved to see Athrar go willingly with the others. He was entitled to
join the council. After all, the attack had been against him. She shivered, imagining the long,
frustrating night ahead of her. Had anyone realized yet the enormity of what had happened?
Someone had found a way to penetrate the defenses woven into the very walls and foundation
stones of the fortress. Not since the days of her father's childhood, when the previous Athrar and
his family had been slaughtered, had anyone broken into the fortress to attack. Mrillis had woven
those defenses, and she had always assumed they would stay strong and impenetrable
forever.

* * * *

The discussion in the Warhawk's council chambers dragged on past midnight. Mrillis sat
and listened more than he spoke. He caught more than a few worried glances cast his way when
the discussion drifted to the defenses of the fortress, rather than the enemy's tactic, and guessed
the thoughts behind those glances. Had he weakened, or did his defensive spell have some flaw?
Mrillis didn't know whether to be amused or frustrated. Were people being tactful or terrified of
him, when they didn't speak their questions aloud?

I'm not in my dotage and nowhere near it,
he finally said privately to
Meghianna.
As we discovered when I was the focal point for the binding of the Zygradon
through me, the closer something is to your nose, the harder it is to see.

I don't like the mental image of your nose being part of the defenses of the fortress.
No one has told you, old meddler, but your nose has grown and flattened as you've
aged.

Mrillis snorted, muffling a bark of laughter. No one noticed, the sound buried in the
intensity of the conversation at the far end of the table.

Rest assured, my dear, I am just as concerned as you at the possibility that some
growing weakness in me means growing weakness in the spells I created. The cure is
simple.

Oh, don't say anything now.
She slightly rolled her eyes and tipped her head
toward three council members who were so intent on having their say, no one could understand a
word any of them said.
The last thing anyone wants is a simple solution. It won't let them
prove how brilliant and perceptive they are. But do tell me,
she added after a moment.

We have others weave spells through mine. If more people are involved in the
defensive spells and tied to the Threads, then weakness in one won't threaten the whole.
Something like those layers of defense you used back at the inn. The vermin defense, I believe
you called it.

Meghianna grinned and leaned back in her chair, shaking her head. That caught the
attention of the arguing parties for just a few seconds, barely long enough for a momentary pause
in their argument.

I assume you two have already solved the problem?
Efrin said. Braenlicach lay
on the table before him, and provided him with enough strength to join the silent
conversation.

Not entirely solved,
Meghianna answered.
But we have some ideas. No one
likes simple if it won't let them prove how brilliant they are.
She nodded toward the arguing
nobles.

Ah, yes.
Efrin smiled and leaned back in his chair for the first time since the
meeting began.
Since the kingdom is once again safe, perhaps I can dare adjourn?

Please do. Megassa let me know a little while ago that the boys are still talking and
excited about the attack, and they're devising some sort of deep and dreadful vow among them
that they're trying desperately to keep hidden from her.

Tell her not to worry. No matter how many years pass, boys are the same. They're
going to make a blood vow, calling down all sorts of curses on themselves if they don't stand
loyal to each other through fire and famine and plague, and defend each other to the death. Will
wonders never cease?
A soft chuckle reverberated through the Threads.
I think those
windbags have run out of words.

Or they're just as old and tired as we are, and they've run out of energy to keep
fighting,
Mrillis offered.

Efrin stood, shoving his chair back with a loud scraping of wood on stone, waking
several members of the council who had fallen into a doze with their eyes open. When he
adjourned the discussion until later, no one noticed that he did not specify a time to reconvene
the meeting. Even the most vociferous of the arguers looked relieved to be dismissed.

"We're all getting old," Efrin said, when Mrillis remarked on that. The three of them had
lingered after everyone else trickled out of the room. "Except you, Meggi, of course."

"No." Her tone sounded sour, and her lips pressed flat and curved down, but Mrillis saw
the touch of amusement glimmering at the backs of her eyes. "I simply
look
older than
both of you." She tugged on her snowy hair, which had slipped free of the elaborate braids from
the ceremony and feast. "Do you know, I used to grumble about dying my hair constantly, back
in the inn, but now I miss it?"