THREE DROPS OF BLOOD

by Michelle L. Levigne

  Meghianna saw one man open his mouth to protest, obeying his master's command that no one was allowed to leave the castle. She turned her back on him and walked away, mentally daring him to try to restrain her. No one followed her as she stomped at double speed out of the room and up the stairs to the guest quarters.

  Chapter Ten

  Megassa, Ynessa, Pirkin and Markas had been busy while Meghianna indulged in her mummery, and had everything packed. The four Valors who had accompanied them had come at Megassa's first call through the Threads and had their gear ready for flight. From the grim expressions they wore and their tendency to surround Markas, they knew all the details and didn't find the subterfuge of the future king disguised as a girl amusing in the slightest. She silently blessed them, and thanked the Estall they had been assigned to accompany her.

  She paused in the flurry of preparing to leave--and fight their way out of the castle, if need be--to offer a prayer to the Estall for safety and success. Then she contacted Mrillis through the Threads and sent him a quick image of everything they had done and intended to do. Meghianna thanked the Estall she had the strength to talk to Mrillis over such a long distance. How else, she wondered, could she have had the courage to do this, without his guidance? She had the strength, she had the talent, she had the authority as Queen of Snows to do anything she thought necessary, but she hoped she was wise enough to know her lack of experience could be a severe disadvantage to them all.

  Clever girl, Mrillis said, after several seconds of utter silence following her report, when Meghianna feared she had lost him or stunned him or worse, disappointed him. Such people expect the worst of everyone, so they expect such actions from you. Even if all reports painted an entirely different picture of you, they would not question you acting as you have done. Now flee, and know your father and I are on our way with the best of the Warhawk's forces. I have called all the Valors on Moerta to your aid. Your father sends his love and his approval to you both.

  "Lord Mrillis and Papa approve," Meghianna reported, feeling a little breathless, as she opened her eyes and found all her companions watching her. She laughed when the Valors and Pirkin showed relief at her words. She wasn't entirely confident in her skills or the wisdom of her plan, so how could she fault them for being uncertain? She wasn't used to subterfuge and play-acting and hiding her intent. Now that she thought of it, she wasn't used to bullying and demanding, either.

  Their departure from the castle was an anti-climax. Only a few people in the inner and outer courtyards even stopped to look at them. No one protested, though Meghianna caught a few faces peering over the parapets and through the arrow slits of the outer wall, watching them. Two women stopped them as they went down the last staircase, each wanting to know why Ynessa was going with them. All it took was for Pirkin to wrap his arm around his sweetheart's waist and for Ynessa to blush and stammer. Both women smiled and urged them to hurry before the seneschal caught them. No one scolded Ynessa for deserting Glyssani in her illness, and that made Meghianna wonder just where the half-blood girl stood in everyone's estimation. Good enough for her fellow ladies to approve her fleeing with her sweetheart, but not high enough for anyone to protest her leaving? Perhaps she had led even more of a sheltered life than she had guessed. It was one thing to know about the prejudices between Rey'kil and Noveni, and the hard line that half-bloods walked. It was another to see the effects on the innocent caught between two nations and races.

  "Why didn't they ask about me?" Markas asked, once they were far enough away from the castle that distance and the sound of their horses' hooves covered his voice.

  "No one recognized you, so they assumed you belonged with us," Pirkin said. "People pay more attention to strangers entering than they do to strangers leaving."

  "That's a mistake they won't make again," the boy muttered. Even through the alterations of Meghianna's magic, his grim expression was clear. She knew then he would make a strong, wise king, and a valuable ally.

  The child Glyssani and my father will have will be his half-brother, Meghianna realized. He will be my half-brother's strongest supporter--or his most deadly enemy, if we bungle anything that happens in the next few moons. Or even years. Oh, blessed Estall, protect us all. Protect the generations yet to be born.

  She knew then that no matter how deep and strong the attraction and bonding between Glyssani and Efrin might prove to be, she had to ensure they did not marry until Markas had reached his majority and took his father's throne. Only then could Glyssani leave her post and duty as regent for her son. It was the only way Efrin could avoid any blame or scandal. Especially if anything happened to Markas before he gained his crown.

  I'm sorry, Papa. How you will ache in the years of waiting. Even more than you ever ached for my mother. Meghianna chafed at the burden of the knowledge, and the fear that she might have misread the situation.

  She tried to push that consideration into the back of her mind, to deal with later when her companions didn't fear for their lives and freedom quite so much. The Valors took up the duty of seeking ahead and behind them with magic, to ensure they had a clear path and that no one followed them. She was glad to let them take up the duty of protecting Markas, but that didn't mean she would ride and conserve her energy. She tested the Threads, sending her thoughts along them in every direction, seeking every bit of disturbance or trouble, the slightest discord of fear or pain or sickness.

  Despite knowing the general location of Tantagar, and the description Markas and Pirkin had both given them as they rode, it shocked her when her mind touched on the knot of poisoned growth that surrounded the tower. Meghianna gasped aloud, so that Megassa and Pirkin, riding on either side of her, reached out a hand as if they feared she would fall off her horse.

  "I found Tantagar through the Threads," she said, and paused to wipe new sweat from her face. "It is worse than I imagined, worse than you described. If I did not know better, I would think someone had been encouraging the foulness growing there."

  "I think Timark has been herding the warped animals there," Markas said. "He has men stationed there, Encindi blood, and some men that I heard failed their Valor training. They spend most of their time out in the wild lands, looking for monsters. Timark claims he is doing it to protect our people, but what if he's using them? Can you train monsters to act like guard dogs?"

  "The Nameless One did," Megassa said, surprising them. "I read that after the fortress on Flintan was stormed and the three children were rescued from sacrifice, the soldiers who came in to clear out the sickness there found cells where men and beasts were kept penned up with raw star-metal. It warped them, made them insane and twisted in their bodies. I read that pregnant women were kept in cells lined with raw star-metal. Their children came out of the womb twisted and strong and insane, and the Nameless One intended to turn them into an army."

  "That isn't part of our Valor training," Pirkin said, "though I do remember some reference to it among all that history we had to read." He shook his head, his expression darkening and grim. "Thank the Estall, those days are behind us."

  "Such days are never behind us until we learn history's lesson and keep it clearly before our eyes, so we never repeat such wickedness," Meghianna said.

  "So... We can expect all sorts of monsters, both men and animals, waiting for us when we reach Tantagar," Kettin, the leader of the four Valors, said. He glanced around and met the gazes of his three fellow Valors. They all nodded, and Meghianna felt a sense of warmth and safety from their determined, somber expressions.

  It was ridiculous, she knew, to feel that way. She had the power and strength and training to protect all of them without much effort on her part. The combined imbrose of everyone else in their party couldn't match up to even a fraction of her power. The difference, she knew, was that they had experience in battle and strategy and ambushes. She had only her reading and theorizing. Who was better suited to protect them? The weaker and more experienced, of course.

  This jo
urney had turned into more of a learning experience for her than she had anticipated. Meghianna wondered if her father felt any guilt or worry on her and Megassa's behalf. What had started out as a simple fact-finding expedition, and a possible exercise of her authority as Queen of Snows, to take Glyssani out of an unpleasant situation, had turned into an adventure that could change the course of history for both continents.

  When she shared that thought with Megassa, after they finally stopped near midnight to make camp, her sister laughed.

  "We'll be written into the history scrolls for this, no doubt," Megassa said, muffling more laughter into snorts. Her gaze softened when she looked across the fire at Markas, finally free of his disguise and dead asleep, leaning against Kettin, who had taken the boy under his wing. "What I want to know is, who will get more written about them? You and I, for stumbling into the foul situation, Timark for his nefarious plot...or Papa and Glyssani?" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "If they are soul-mates, as your vision says, history will claim that Papa laid siege to Welcairn Castle to capture her and carry her off and make her his bride. If I know the way rumors twist everything, two generations from now, people will believe Glyssani and Timark were married, or betrothed, and Papa took one look at her, decided she had to be his, and fought Timark to possess her."

  "Will this battle be for love, or for lust and power?" Meghianna said, deciding to find humor in her sister's speculations. She was just tired enough that everything could be extremely funny, or send her into tears. She preferred laughter, after all they had done this day.

  "It would be nice to have people fighting for love of me someday," her sister murmured, her gaze losing focus as she gazed into the fire.

  "You, my dear sister, are more likely to fight a dozen women over the warrior you want to possess."

  Megassa sat up and stared at her, mouth open, for a good ten heartbeats. Then she shrieked laughter and fell backward against her saddle backrest. Meghianna noted the laughter didn't disturb either Markas or Ynessa, who were both exhausted from their journey.

  * * * *

  Lord Mrillis?

  Meghianna's voice startled him, and Mrillis smiled to realize he had started to doze in the saddle. The Warhawk's forces rode straight through, ignoring mere dividing lines such as night and day.

  Here. Are you well?

  We're safe and fed and close to Tantagar.

  Show me. He tamped down the sympathy he felt, and the shudder of loathing that came to him from Meghianna's mind.

  Mrillis remembered the memories others had shared with him, years after the fall of the Nameless One's fortress on Flintan. Meghianna had only sent her mind along the Threads to get the general atmosphere and read the energy of the tower fortress of the kings of Welcairn. If he could estimate the foulness that awaited them, based on her brief foray, this sickness had been growing since long before the fall of the Nameless One.

  Interesting. He searched back through the impressions and the testing along the Threads that she had done, and the memories she had sent him. The anomaly in the sickening ripples and spikes of power caught his attention just as it had Meghianna's.

  You see it too? The relief in her voice brought a smile to the weary muscles of his face. I'm not imagining the hole in the foulness?

  Not a hole, I think. A tunnel.

  We will test it tomorrow, as we head further into the wilderness around Tantagar.

  Carefully. I don't want your father taking my head off for encouraging you to take foolish risks.

  I would only be following my teacher's example.

  Have some respect for your elders, child. Mrillis laughed, muffling the sound so he wouldn't attract the attention of the weary soldiers riding before and behind him.

  Constantly. Megs is delighted to have an adventure. Kettin and his men are torn between enjoying the challenge and danger, and feeling guilty for having fun. And worrying about us. We are being extra careful, I swear.

  I wasn't about to scold you. Send your awareness into that spot once more, while I am linked to you. Mrillis compared the tunnel in the twisted, frayed Threads filling the wilderness and the rocky valley around Tantagar to the emptiness in the core of a rotten tooth. Meghianna's impressions and the comments of the others in her party agreed with his first impression--this was how Timark took his prisoner safely to Tantagar, through the foul magic and monsters that filled the landscape.

  So, this is part of Timark's secret. We will be ready. Thank you for the warning and information.

  There is more. She sent him a compact bundle of her memories of the conversation during the ride to her party's camp.

  Mrillis agreed with the speculation that Timark had been encouraging the growth of warped monsters.

  Is it possible that he recruited those failed Valors to try to find and gather star-metal, to concentrate it around Tantagar, and maybe try to control it? she asked, after he had looked through all the memories.

  Very possible. Thank the Estall you went ahead of us. Mrillis sensed something, a tension that flickered down the Thread that allowed their communication. What is it, child?

  Don't tell Papa--not that I think you would, but... Glyssani matches the music of his soul. They are destined for each other. She's the true love he's been waiting for. She paused. And they will have a son. The third drop of blood of the prophecy.

  The hand born to wield Braenlicach. Mrillis opened his eyes and looked around at his companions.

  Efrin rode slightly ahead of him, face grim, eyes unfocussed as he thought and prepared for the battle ahead of them all. This was a battle unlike any the Warhawk's forces had fought in years--they would be fighting their own people, instead of defending their lands against Encindi barbarians.

  Thank you for telling me, he finally said, when the silence between him and Meghianna rang with tension.

  You would have known it the moment you touched her hand.

  Yes, but it is never good to walk into a situation unprepared. I have a reputation of being all-knowing and all-seeing. He smiled when a tiny gulp of laughter traveled down the Thread to him. How do you feel about this?

  Oh, we're all furious with Timark and the mental games he has played with Glyssani and her people all these years. She has enough imbrose to know he's been trying to drug her, to control her mind, but--

  No, my dear. About having a stepmother and a half-brother. Eventually.

  Meghianna laughed, the sound so infectious Mrillis bit his lip to keep from echoing her. That would certainly startle those riding around him, only another hour of riding away from the Tower of Bo'Lantier and the entrance to the tunnel between continents.

  I'm delighted that Papa will finally have his true love, and his son. Megs will be glad too, once she thinks about it.

  Why?

  No more nobles will try to win her heart to win the throne. If Papa has a legitimate heir, she will be a few steps away from the throne. We talked about Glyssani and Papa, and what the future will say about this battle, and we decided that they will think it was all fought so Papa could win Glyssani, not to defeat a lying tyrant and protect a young king's throne. Megs said she thought it would be nice to have a true love, and to have people fight for her love. I hope she gets her wish. People who want her for her, not for what she can give them.

  Fighting for the love of a woman of great power... That can be a good thing, or it can lead to disaster. He thought of Endor's pursuit of Ceera's heart, though his childhood friend never really had a chance. How much of Endor's cruelty and bitterness came from not winning Ceera's love? Would the world be a different, better place now, if she had turned her heart to him, rather than to Mrillis?

  He had asked himself many times, in the dark nights when loneliness threatened to crush his soul. Would Ceera still be alive now, if they hadn't chosen the paths through life that they did?

  A man who would wreak vengeance on others just because he didn't win the love of a woman... well, Timark is proving that he isn't worthy of her, isn'
t he? Meghianna remarked.

  Mrillis laughed, startled--and grateful for it--out of his somber thoughts before they could once again spiral down into depression. Yes, you are very right. The difficulty lies in convincing such a man of his errors.

  I suppose at the beginning, he thought he could win Glyssani's love through honest means. The path to perdition begins with fine intentions. Oh, Megs wants to know if we're talking. She says the Threads are vibrating and keeping her awake.

  You should get your sleep. You are all soldiers, advance scouts for the Warhawk. Give my love to your sister, my respects and good wishes to Prince Markas and Kettin and his fellows and... Mrillis sighed. Give my love to Pirkin, and my greetings to Ynessa. I look forward to meeting my grandson's intended.

  Megs says to hurry, so she can beat you at Castles, Meghianna responded after a moment, when he knew she passed his words on. Good journey, Lord Mrillis. Give our love to Papa. And thank you for being there. We would be lost without you.

  And where would the world be without you, Queen of Snows, and the heir my Ceera chose before your birth? Mrillis inwardly groaned at the words that most likely struck Meghianna as stiff and formal. How could he convey to her all the things she meant to him? She was his child, his beloved pupil, his co-worker, and someone he heartily prayed would surpass him someday. And his heart broke at the thought of all the pain and the burdens and loneliness that would be hers someday.

  He remembered his vision of Meghianna waiting alone in the silence of the Stronghold, guarding Braenlicach for the one yet to come. If the son of Glyssani and Efrin, not yet conceived, was the hand born to hold Braenlicach, and the third drop of blood of the prophecy, then would the Blood born of the Blood come from him? Or would Meghianna wait generations for her own true love to come to her, and the child that would be born of that union?