JOURNEY OF THE SACRED KING II

by JANRAE FRANK

  "No!" Merissa bent forward, shielding her belly as if they would tear it from her right there.

  Baroucha glanced at Aisha. "I will make up the brew anyway. Maybe after she has spoken to her father she will see reason." Then the healer left.

  "I knew you were sleeping with Troyes, but I said nothing to your father. I am certain that he suspected. I did not know about Isranon. Why didn't you use a preventative?"

  "Sa'necari... I didn't think I could get..."

  "Your father will be angry. He had hoped to make a good marriage for you."

  "Must you tell him?"

  "Unless you drink Baroucha's brew, there will be no hiding it in time. How far along are you?"

  Merissa dropped her head. "Two months."

  "You conceived soon after his wounding?"

  "Yes. I promised him it would be like the wild cousins ... that I would place no ties upon him or expect anything from him."

  "A cub is a powerful tie, daughter. Especially for someone like Isranon. When did you intend to tell him?"

  "I don't."

  "Foolish cub. Foolish, foolish cub." Aisha wrapped her arms around Merissa. "I don't know whether your father will try to force you to lose it or simply send you away, rather than watch your belly swell with a sa'necari cub."

  "Can I go to Isranon one last time before you tell father?"

  Aisha thought a moment and then nodded. "Bring Nevin with you when you return. The unborn will need an advocate either way. And I don't want your father charging down on Isranon over this. Claw will listen to Nevin, even when he will not listen to me."

  * * * *

  Merissa arrived at the cave late in the afternoon of the next day. She had not been able to take the ride at her usual heedless pace because of the discomforts of her body. Nevin stood up from the rock he sat upon, cleaning a pair of partridges.

  "Merissa!" He crossed to her as she dismounted. She stepped into his arms and he held her a moment.

  "You need to come back with me when I leave. My mother requests it."

  "What is wrong?"

  Merissa looked up at him and could not repress a tiny shine of tears. "I cannot tell you until we have left."

  Isranon heard them and emerged. His face lit at the sight of her. He took her inside the cave and they talked a long time, lying on his bed. All sa'necari were Readers and Isranon would have known her secret if he had been less honorable and given to probing. Merissa shivered when his hands ran down her body and lingered on her belly. Please, please, don't see what is there.

  Then he kissed her as he parted her legs still more and settled his body over hers.

  "Like the wild cousins, Isranon," Merissa's voice trembled slightly.

  "Like the wild cousins." He entered her and she wrapped herself tightly around him.

  Merissa made love to Isranon all night long with a savage, desperate hunger, certain that this would be their last night together. When he finally slept beside her, she gently disengaged herself from his arms, dressed, and slipped out. Nevin was drowsing in wolf-form when she woke him quietly.

  "We need to go now, before Isranon wakes."

  Nevin did not ask why, merely got his gear together and they rode down the hunters' trace toward the Great House. Once they were well away from the caves, he spoke. "Talk to me."

  Merissa hung her head, her dark hair falling about her face.

  "Merissa?" Nevin coaxed.

  "I'm carrying Isranon's cub. You know the laws. Better a human's cub, than a sa'necari's."

  Nevin fell silent. Centuries ago, when the laws had been harsher, Merissa would have been stoned to death for carrying a sa'necari cub. It was always done quietly so that the sa'necari overlords did not learn of it. When sa'necari did choose lycan mates or mistresses, they took them to the cities out of reach of the clan to protect them.

  "You want to keep the cub?"

  "I am not going to let them hurt my cub ... Isranon's cub. Baroucha was already preparing the brew to force it out of me when I left." Merissa's small hands balled up into fists and she slammed them against the saddle startling her horse into a canter.

  Nevin kept up with her. "So Aisha wants me for an advocate."

  "Yes. You can't let them hurt Isranon's cub."

  "I will try. Claw may decide to call a full council on this matter. Isranon has become the exception to many rules already. Perhaps he will in this also. Or perhaps they will tire of making exceptions and punish you both."

  Merissa shivered and began to cry.

  "Or he may simply accept my judgment."

  Merissa turned her tear stained face to him. "And what would that be?"

  "Spare the cub."

  Silence held again for several minutes and then Nevin spoke again. "Does my clan-brother know about his cub?"

  Merissa shook her head. "I will not bind him with the cub where he does not wish to be bound." She rubbed the back of her hands across her eyes, streaking her cheeks with moisture. "But some day, if he decides he loves me, he'll return ... and I will be waiting for him."

  * * * *

  Aisha rose from her place at her loom when Nevin and Merissa entered. "I wish you had not chosen to spend the night," she said, reaching for Merissa who had begun to look apprehensive.

  Merissa threw herself into her mother's arms and stayed there for a long time. Nevin watched them thoughtfully, already composing his words. They would not destroy his fur-brother's cub.

  "Come, Claw has been up in his study brooding all day. You'll be her advocate, Nevin?"

  "I agreed to it."

  Nevin followed them upstairs. Claw sat at his desk, an oaken piece of furniture as solid looking as the chieftain. Baroucha sat near him. Her bottles and a glass were on the table as if the decision had already been made. Claw glared at Merissa, and then at Nevin. "This is none of your affair, Lawgiver." He waved his hand for emphasis.

  Nevin bore the chieftain's anger without expression or reaction. "I am here as her advocate and the cub's."

  Claw frowned deeply, turning to Merissa. "You've been playing the slut ever since the sa'necari arrived. This is beyond tolerating. No chieftain's son will have you. I had hoped for an alliance through your marriage. These are dangerous times and we need all that we can gather."

  "Isranon is clan-brother, you named him such yourself," Nevin responded low, forcing them to listen to him by his tone alone.

  Baroucha gave him a look of sheerest disdain. "That does not change the fact that the cub is sa'necari. This is how Isranon repays our generosity? He humps our princess and fills her belly? I should have poisoned the bloody sa'necari when I had the chance instead of healing him."

  Merissa gave a small cry and knuckled her lips.

  "Baroucha has prepared the brew," Claw said. "You will lose the cub immediately."

  "I love him. You can't take his cub," Merissa's voice caught and her eyes teared up.

  "Isranon is not simply any sa'necari," Nevin began. "He is the last descendant of the Dawnhand. Each time he leaves the safety of our valley, he rides into danger. Each time he leaves could be the one journey that leads to his death. Do you wish to be the one who condemns that lineage to an end?"

  Claw shifted uncomfortably. "He is sa'necari."

  "He is clan."

  "It would be better to let the lineage end so that there is one less sa'necari to deal with," Baroucha snarled, showing her teeth and looking ready to change out of rage. "I say, make her drink. Stone the sa'necari for touching her."

  Nevin remained unruffled. "He is the last Dark Brother of the Light. Who are we, who have sheltered them for generations, to say that they are the same as their darker kindred? It is like saying that lycans and lupori are the same because we both become wolves. Yet we are neutrals and the lupori serve Bellocar as do the Nakesht who make wolves of myn for their hunting packs."

  "You love the cub, Claw," Aisha spoke up for the first time. "You know it. You always have, since he first showed up here as a skinny little nothing. Y
ou used to call him your man-cub. How can you suggest hurting his cub?"

  Claw ducked his head. "Awww, bitch," he said with grudging fondness. "Do you always have to make trouble for me?" He scratched behind his ear.

  "When you deserve it, yes."

  "Well, then. We can't tell anyone. Not even Isranon. And we can't have her here, a swollen belly will make people ask too many questions."

  Merissa smiled tentatively. "I could go to grandbitch's clan to bear it."

  "That is a fine idea," Aisha chimed it. "We could hide them there until it became safe to bring them home. We don't want any sa'necari who might come here later nosing around the cub."

  Claw nodded. "Go upstairs and get packed, Merissa. You will leave in the morning."

  "Yes, Papa."

  Aisha slipped her arm around her daughter and walked out with her.

  * * * *

  Nevin returned to the cave alone after seeing Merissa off. He found Isranon working with his blades as he did each day. He removed his saddlebags and walked into the cave, carrying them. Isranon followed.

  "Why didn't you tell me you were leaving?"

  Nevin shrugged. "There was no time. The matter was urgent."

  Isranon nodded to that. "Did you handle it?"

  "Yes. Else I would not be here."

  Isranon sat down on the pallet he slept on. "Did Merissa say when she would return?"

  "She isn't."

  Isranon looked disappointed. "Maybe I should ride down to manor."

  "She isn't there, Isranon."

  Isranon's disappointment turned to concern. "What do you mean, she isn't there?"

  "Claw discovered the nature of your relationship and sent her away."

  The expression of utter devastation on Isranon's face tore at Nevin. "I didn't mean to hurt her. I could talk to Claw."

  "I talked Isranon. She had me for her advocate. Neither Claw nor I can or will say more than that. She has been sent away and she will not be returning."

  Isranon bolted to his feet, and ran from the cave. Nevin went after him to be certain that he would not do anything foolish. He heard him crying in the trees. Nevin briefly considered going to him and then decided against it. Let him get it out of his system. This was for the best.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  UNCLEAN

  Aejys woke in the wee hours, shaking and sweating from a nightmare she could not remember with Brendorn's name on her lips. The darkness seemed to press in around her. She wanted to run away again as she had eight years ago. Let them chase her if they could, but leave everyone else alone. That vow, that stupid vow, it was gone, but she felt just as trapped as she had when it wrapped tight around her. I left them; I thought I was making it better for them, that they'd be safe without me. But they weren't. They weren't! They're all dead... because I would not stand and fight. I thought I was keeping my honor, but I wasn't. I was just saving my own skin. I didn't want to hurt ma'aram. I didn't want to see her cry. What does it matter if I have courage on the field but not in the home? I should have killed Margren and then myself. My life be forfeit to my liege-god if I break this vow. I should have broken it and died.

  I did die. Josiah brought me back. Healed me. It hurt so bad to die. The pain frightens me. I've never hurt so bad. Not even the viper's bite. The venom... For the first time in my life I am afraid to die. Possibly to rise undead. To hurt like that again...

  Tears ran freely down her face. She looked over at Josiah sleeping deeply beside her. Oh Sweet Gods! What is wrong with me? Have I lost my nerve?

  She slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Josiah. Dree, sleeping at the foot, roused and watched her. She pulled her night robe over her head and dropped it on the floor. Her trousers and tunic lay draped over one of the over-stuffed chairs. She managed to pull the trousers on with difficulty; her twisted hands did not want to grip and forcing them hurt. But she got the ties pulled together. Only her thumbs and one forefinger worked at all. She had to grip the end in the webbing between her thumbs and palms to pull them together. She got them tied and pulled her tunic over her head, thankful that she did not need to tie any thing else. She threw on her cloak and forced her feet into her boots, then went out.

  Dree followed her, meowing distress. Aejys scooped her up and tossed her gently back into the room before closing the door. Then she went down to the stables.

  A hostler answered her shout, peering sleepily from the loft.

  "Saddle me a horse," she ordered crisply.

  He came down and looked about. "Ye shuna go out alone, lord."

  "That's none of your affair, just saddle the damned horse."

  "Yes'm."

  He got the horse saddled, waited for her to get out of the barn, and headed for the Cock and Boar. As he mounted the stairs, he heard the cat yowling loudly from Aejys' room. The upstairs was stirring in response to Dree's misery. Josiah emerged with Dree riding on his shoulder.

  "What's going on?" Becca asked.

  "Aejys is gone. I think that's why Dree is putting up such a fuss." Josiah replied, and then he spied the hostler.

  "Yup," he said. "Her lordship ordered a horse saddled and took off."

  "Do you know where she went?" Josiah demanded.

  "Uh uh."

  "Brendorn's grave," Becca said. "That's where she went last time."

  Josiah tried to move Dree, but the cat dug her claws in and yowled. "Okay, Dree. If you want to come, you come."

  Dree purred loudly.

  Josiah was beginning to think there was more to Dree than just a simple cat. He went back in and retrieved the little flask of whiskey Taun had returned to him, shoved it into a pocket, and headed for the stables.

  * * * *

  Aejys sat cross-legged on the grave, dragging her ruined fingers through the dirt. Grass grew all around it, a few patches springing up near the headstone. Before spring was out the grass would cover it completely. She had had no more visitations from his spirit since Dragonshead. The grass seemed like one more barrier between them. When it covered the grave would he be gone forever? She loved Josiah, but she missed Brendorn. Brendorn had died because he loved her, because he had put his life between hers and Farendarc's. Would she lose Josiah too? Tamlestari? The children? Would they even be born?

  "Brendorn, for the first time, I'm frightened. No, not the first time. I was terrified after Bucharsa. But it wasn't like this. It wasn't all the time, every minute. I could get past it. Now, I can't. It just sits there in my stomach, sour and aching. It never goes away."

  Tears rolled down her face, angry, frustrated, and desperate. "It never goes away. Hell Shitting Damnation!" She folded her arms across her stomach, bent over them and rocked slowly. "My hands ... my hands. People flinch when I touch them. It makes my stomach queasy just to look at them."

  Aejys stilled with a deep, shuddering sigh, forcing herself to look at them. They were twisted, ugly, and useless. She could not even defend herself, much less the others. Tag could do a better job of taking care of her people and her loved ones than she could. They did not even need her, and they were in jeopardy because of her. "What the Hell can I do? I've made new vows to stop Margren and yet what can I do? Take more people into danger?"

  Then she thought of Molly – dear sweet Molly. Before Brendorn came; before the march to Shaurone; before she was taken by Margren, she had always been down in the common room at closing time ... had her hands and body been whole, she would have been there that night and Molly would not be dead ... so much death. "My damned hands!"

  A soft, warm body wrapped around her and she started from her thoughts as Dree climbed carefully over her hands without hurting her and up onto her shoulder. "Where did you come from?"

  Dree purred loudly, rubbing her face across Aejys' cheek. The sound felt comforting, easing the paladin's heart. She began to feel better, listening to the little cat.

  "I brought her," Josiah said softly, kneeling beside her and taking her into his arms.

  Tears started again at
his touch. She pressed her face into his shoulder. Dree moved from Aejys to Josiah, still purring loudly. Aejys poured out her misery in his arms. He listened and held her and kissed her until the nightmares receded.

  * * * *

  Talons sat on the benches on the edge of the training grounds watching Jysy and Arruth face off against some of the older students in hand to hand combat. The Sharani youths were agile and quick, good at avoiding blows and throws, but less than satisfactory at delivering them. Talons regarded their efforts thoughtfully, she could see the way their hit and run lifestyle as thieves and street children reflected in their fighting. They were picking up the movements of the kata, but then did not seem to know how to implement them on the field. She decided to try and find time to work with them herself. As their sponsor, Talons was expected to show up and watch them from time to time except when she was on assignment. The two youths, once they began their classes, settled in well. The teachers were still evaluating them, trying to find the holes in their education. At least they were literate and their bookwork was decent, if not outstanding. Talons appreciated the fact that the 'kiss and tell' stage had been passed as soon as the newness wore off. Jysy and Arruth were now into an 'anything you can do, I can do better,' mindset brought on by the fact that males outnumbered them three to one in their classes. They proved good enough that the armsmaster put them to running the obstacle courses with the older students. That played to their strengths as street kids. They crawled, climbed, swam, and ran while taking out their targets with small ranged weapons, mostly daggers and throwing stars.

  In the evenings they hit the books without complaint, soaking it all in. As glowing reports trickled in, Talons felt a swell of pride in their abilities and no longer spent as much time wishing she could have had Birdie. They were going to be very good. When it came time for their first kill, Talons would go along as backup. They had attempted their first kill when they dropped that noose around the stone troll's neck and tried to throttle him. The result had been to get themselves knocked silly by the monster, but they had nerve. Best of all, they no longer had either time or energy to ambush Talons: no more embarrassing playful assaults.