The Second God

by Pauline M. Ross

  “It is forbidden, yes. Arran would be killed if he simply walked in there. Drina, too, is not welcome. But there is a way it can be done. Now that I have reached the age of strength, I am permitted to bond in blood with those who can help me, people who will share my life and my responsibilities. Drina is my wife, and Arran is my friend and brother of the heart, so it is appropriate for us to exchange blood. But it is not something to be undertaken lightly. There is a risk, and if successful, it will bind us together for life.”

  “Will I be able to fly an eagle?” Arran said, his face glowing.

  “Indeed you will, as you have long wanted,” Ly said with an affectionate smile.

  “Then let us do it!” Arran said happily. “That way we will always be brothers of the heart.”

  ~~~~~

  I had a thousand questions about Ly’s idea, but there was no time to discuss them. For several hours we sat in meetings as Ly repeated the same story of the new byan shar – first to Yannassia’s inner circle of advisors, then to a wider group and finally to some of the nobles. It was tedious, but Ly showed no impatience, answering every question quietly. I had little to do, and my attention wandered. Once or twice I closed my eyes and felt in my mind the power of Ly’s magic, blazing undimmed, and wondered what it portended.

  There was only one moment where I was dragged forcibly back to the discussion. One of the nobles was speculating at exhaustive length on the possible implications, when one particular remark caught my ear.

  “—and then we shall need to deal with this replacement byan shar, now that he is leader of—”

  “No,” Ly said coldly. “I am byan shar. I am leader of all the Blood Clans. You deal with me. Nothing that has happened affects that situation.”

  “But surely…?” The noble gazed at him thoughtfully, considering his words. “I would assume,” he said carefully, “that since you are both equally… erm, chosen by your gods, that you have equal status?”

  “Not so. For Sho-heest is merely a boy, with a boy’s weak power, as I was at his age. It will be ten or fifteen years before he achieves his full power and becomes strong enough to be considered a leader. You deal with me, Honoured Lord, and I will deal with the boy.”

  Yannassia raised an eyebrow. Leaning close to my ear, she whispered, “Your timid little husband has some backbone after all. Excellent.” Her eyes sparkled with glee.

  Nothing was said to the nobles of Ly’s plan to talk to Sho-heest, or how he hoped to accomplish that. We were supposed to attend a formal dinner that evening, but we made our excuses and returned to our apartment. Arran was quivering with excitement, showering Ly with questions as soon as we were through the door into our private quarters.

  “Wait a moment!” Ly said, laughing, hands raised in defence against the onslaught. “Let me catch my breath first. And perhaps I could check on the children?”

  “Yes, and let’s organise some food,” I said. “I’m starving, and a glass of wine wouldn’t be unwelcome, either.”

  “The dining room, then?” Arran said.

  “Would you mind if we were to sit on one of the balconies?” Ly said. “After so many sun-crossings in the open, I am finding these stone walls a little oppressive.”

  While I sent instructions to the kitchen, Ly went off to the nursery and Arran arranged chairs and a table on the sitting room balcony, and fetched wine and glasses. The balcony was in shade now, but still warm from the afternoon sun. Small bushes in pots rustled their leaves in the slight breeze. It would have been a pleasant place to relax, if I weren’t so weighed down with concern. Five years I’d been married to Ly, and thought I knew him well, yet he could still shock me with some piece of his people’s culture that I’d never suspected.

  The servants brought bread and soup and some hot pastries almost at once, and we ate and drank and said nothing until Ly came back.

  “All is well with them,” he said. “They would like to see you both.”

  “Later,” I said. “We need to talk about this blood-bonding, Ly. You have some explaining to do.”

  “Yes, tell us how it will work,” Arran said eagerly.

  “No, not that,” I said sharply. “I need an explanation of why you never mentioned this possibility before. You always said that you were forbidden from sharing your blood with me – or anyone.”

  “And that was the truth. I have never lied to you, Princess.”

  “But you haven’t told me the full truth. You never tell me the full truth. I am so tired of it. How can I make proper decisions when you keep secrets from me?”

  His face was full of misery. “I am so sorry,” he whispered. “May I explain?”

  “You can try. I’m not sure I’ll believe you.”

  He heaved a sigh, and with his head bowed, he looked just like the diffident, old Ly. The new, brasher version was gone. “I did not know…” he began. “I was not sure what would happen. Tradition says that the byan shar will reach his full powers at around the age of thirty. Maybe a little less. Then, everything changes. But you were taking my magic away. I could not be sure that I would ever reach the age of strength. I did not wish to talk about possibilities that might never happen. I wished not to raise your hopes. Or Arran’s hopes. I have long had the idea in mind that the three of us would bond, but I could not know what would happen… I am sorry.”

  The servants came just then with platters of meat and vegetables. We sat in silence while they moved around the table, clearing, tidying, relaying, replenishing. It was a fortunate intervention, for it gave me the opportunity to swallow my anger and admit, albeit reluctantly, that Ly had a point. I was perhaps the only person who had ever taken a byan shar into captivity – the only person who could do so, with my unique heritage – and no one could have predicted the consequences of that.

  So when the servants left us alone again, I said slowly, “I think I would have preferred to be told everything, but I understand why you chose to keep some aspects secret. But will you tell me now? For I need to know – Arran and I both need to know – the whole story, so that we can decide what to do. No—” I saw Arran’s face fall, and stretched across the table to take his hand. “We mustn’t make an instant decision on this. It could change all our lives irrevocably.”

  “That is very true,” Ly said. “The result is always uncertain. For most of my people, blood-bonding is a simple matter of exchanging blood between husband and wife, or occasionally between good friends – brothers of the heart, or sisters, perhaps. Each acquires the connections of the other, and they become much closer, like one person. It is a good thing, and it rarely goes wrong. But for a byan shar, the magic is so strong that… the outcome cannot be predicted. Some strange things have happened. And for the unblooded, it is especially risky.”

  “Would we have your powers – your magic?” Arran said. “Would we become like byan shar?”

  “You would gain some powers, yes,” Ly said. “You would not be byan shar, but you would be able to do some of the things I can do – to connect to minds directly, and to bond with any beast, for instance. You could look through the eyes of any of my people who have been bonded. That is how our wars have been conducted in the past. The byan shar is supposed to blood-bond with a chosen few from his lion guard at the summer Blood Ceremony on the sacred island. Afterwards, they separate, to lead their own cohort. Then they can be sent wherever they are needed to direct the beasts in battle.”

  “So you can split your army into smaller units and open several fronts at once?” Arran said in admiration. “No wonder your people are unbeatable.”

  “That, and the giant lions,” I said with a shrug. “That helps, too.”

  Ly smiled. “So it does. But yes, each one can lead a part of the army. The byan shar directs the lion guard, and they direct their people. And for the blood-bonded, the distance is of no consequence. Do you remember the… the troubles of five years ago? I had difficulty maintaining control of the riders when I was so far away. That is not a problem for
the blood-bonded.”

  “But there is a risk?” I said.

  Ly nodded. “The risk is great. Firstly, you are partly blood-bonded already, which is most unusual.”

  “Unique, I should think,” I said.

  “Ah, Drina, yes. You are unique in many ways. For you the results cannot be foreseen. And Arran is unblooded, so again, no one can predict the outcome. It may succeed, or it may partly succeed, or it may appear to succeed and then turn bad. Or it may fail.”

  “And the consequences of that?” Arran said.

  A long pause. “Perhaps nothing. Perhaps damage to your mind. Perhaps death.” His voice dropped to little more than a whisper. “You must understand and accept this before you agree to anything. And whether it succeeds or fails, none of us will ever be the same again.”

  ~~~~~

  I went to see Yannassia. She and Torthran were sitting on the floor playing a game with their little girl. I smiled at such a domestic scene, struck by guilt that I’d not yet seen my own children since my return. But then, I’d never had Yannassia’s ability to set aside everything else and focus on the moment. If I’d gone to see the children straight away, the blood-bonding would have filled my mind and made me distracted. It was better to clear my thoughts first.

  Yannassia could read my face, for she immediately called the nurse over. “Take Torthrina back to the nursery, if you please. Yes, I know, little one, but I will come and see you in a while. Perhaps Papa will read to you, eh?”

  Torthran nodded, and disappeared with the others. As the door opened and closed, the murmur of masculine voices drifted in from the room beyond, as my bodyguard exchanged courtesies with Yannassia’s.

  “Now, Drina,” Yannassia said, settling herself in a comfortable chair and waving me to its partner. “Tell me all.”

  So I did, everything Ly had said about the blood-bonding. I left nothing out, and she listened in silence.

  “You wish to do this?” she said, when I finally stumbled to silence.

  “I don’t know. It ties me to Ly, even more than I am already tied, and if I go with him to chase after this boy, I shall be in the Clanlands for moons, possibly. Maybe even the whole winter.”

  “You may never come back,” she said crisply.

  That was as painful as an arrow through my heart. Never return to Kingswell, to Bennamore? Spend the rest of my life in the illiterate Clanlands? It would be insupportable. Yet almost at once I had an image of Ly’s island so far away on the great inland sea, so peaceful and secluded, and Ly himself, bringing fresh food for us and cooking it himself. No meetings, no need to be the Drashona’s heir, no rigid protocol. For a short while amidst all the turmoil of those times, we had both been happy. Yes, I could live there, if I had Arran, too, and my books. And the children, with the time to play with them and read to them and teach them.

  There was an appeal in that. My eyebrows lifted.

  Yannassia laughed at my surprise. “That possibility never occurred to you? It was the first thing to enter my mind when you suggested marrying Ly. As the leader of his people, naturally you will be drawn into his world. The only wonder is that it took so long.”

  “No, it never occurred to me,” I said sheepishly. “How stupid of me. But that makes this even more of a major decision. You do not need me as heir any longer, for Hethryn is well able to take on that role, but I still have something to contribute to Bennamore, I hope.”

  “Indeed you do,” she said. “When the Nobles’ Council confirms Hethryn as Drashonor in the autumn, as I fully expect, it is likely that you will remain as Bai-Drashonor. Your brother makes rather a good High Commander, and has turned out better than any of us could have hoped, but he is not at all political. But Drina, your greatest aid to Bennamore now is to ensure that there is no threat to us from the Blood Clans. If that means entering into this blood-bond with Ly, then I have no objection to it, whatever the consequences. But the decision must be yours.”

  “I should like to discuss it with my mother and Cal. Would you mind if I go back to Lakeside?”

  “That is a good idea. You will fly this time, of course. Very well, I will send word to the mirror room at the scribery there.”

  I rose to go, but Yannassia lifted a hand. “One thing I forgot to ask – you watched this Challenge ceremony through Ly’s eyes, yes?” I nodded. “Did you see anything of Lathran?”

  “No, nothing. Ly and I were both watching for him, but he wasn’t there.”

  She smiled. “Ah, but he was. He followed Ly about for hours, he said. At least twice, Ly looked straight at him.”

  That took me aback. I’d grown up with Lathran, I’d have recognised him anywhere, or so I’d have thought. “Well, I wasn’t paying enough attention, then.”

  “Not your fault. He is very, very good at what he does. His own mother would not be able to pick him out of a crowd – and yes, before you ask, we have tried it with both his parents. So I am going to send him to Greenstone Ford, to see if he can get in there and make contact with our people. Perhaps he can get them out, too.”

  I went cold. “That is highly dangerous. We know nothing of what is happening behind those walls, except that an army is being built there, and a bridge that will make it easy for them to cross the river when the time comes to invade us. And Arran…” I hesitated, but it had to be said. I swallowed once, then went on, “Arran revealed that we have spies living secretly there. We do not know who may be aware of that, and watching everything. It is too dangerous to send anyone else there now.”

  “Much that we do for the good of our people is dangerous, Drina. Lathran has accepted the risk, just as you, perhaps, may accept the risk of this blood-bonding. We cannot read the future, but we do whatever is necessary to prepare for it as best we can.”

  There was no comfort in her words.

  12: Blood-Bond

  I left Arran and Ly behind, and flew straight back to Lakeside, to the same rooms in the guest hall. This time, the Kellon came to see me, his face a picture of concern.

  “Most Powerful? I hope… nothing is wrong?”

  “Not at all, Gracious Lord. Just a private matter to discuss with my parents. Family business.” It wasn’t quite true, but it would serve the purpose.

  His expression lifted. “Ah, yes. Of course. May we look forward to the honour of your company at evening board? And Lord Mage Cal and Lady Mage Kyra, of course.”

  “You are very kind, but for tonight we will eat privately. Perhaps tomorrow.”

  He bowed himself out of the room, and I settled down to wait for Mother and Cal.

  It was Sallorna who arrived, though, breathless with excitement. “Have you heard? Such a to-do!”

  I smiled at her. “Heard what? Tell me all!”

  “Rinnfarr Gap has fallen!”

  That made me sit up straight. “Rinnfarr Gap? Fallen? To whom?” But I knew at once who it must be. “The golden army of Greenstone Ford.”

  “Oh – you know about it, then?” She sounded disappointed.

  “No, nothing, but there is no other armed force in the area large enough and organised enough to take a town of that size.”

  “It could have been the Vahsi,” she said sulkily. “That was what I thought, anyway. But you are right, they came from Greenstone Ford. But why, Drina? What do they want with Rinnfarr Gap?”

  “Perhaps to build one of their temples,” I said slowly, mulling the idea over. “They were refused a few years ago. But it seems to me that there is more to it. These people now control both the main trade routes to the south of the Karningplain – Greenstone Ford is the only access point to Bennamore, and Rinnfarr Gap connects to Dellonar, the coast and all the Port Holdings. And I do not like that at all.”

  In the end, I had no choice but to eat evening board with the Kellon and his advisors, while they plied me with questions about Rinnfarr Gap and Greenstone Ford as if I were some kind of expert. I had at least seen Greenstone Ford, which was more than any of them could boast, but still, my know
ledge was no greater than theirs. I guessed that there would be a surge of interest in maps of the region in the moons to come.

  “But will it mean war?” the Kellon said. “Rinnfarr Gap is an ally, is it not? A trading partner, at least.”

  “We have no treaties or alliances with them, so we have no obligation,” I said. “So long as the new power allows trade to continue freely there is no problem. If they block access to the river and thereby cut trading links with Dellonar, that would be a different matter. We have any number of treaties with the Port Holdings, and we would be obliged to act if they were threatened.”

  “It is lucky, then, that our other neighbours are peaceable,” the Kellon said. “One border war at a time is more than enough.”

  I had to agree with him on that point.

  Mother and Cal walked back with me to the guest hall. “Will you have to go back to Kingswell at once?” Mother said. “We haven’t even talked yet about what brought you here.”

  “Sunshine needs some time to rest after the journey,” I said. “So do I, if it comes to that! It’s a long flight. We will talk tomorrow. Can you come over early? I don’t want to interfere with your work. You must be busy with so many Clanfolk here for the Challenge.”

  “They’ve almost all gone,” Mother said. “We saw quite a few in the moon between their Blood Ceremony and the Challenge, but they’ve mostly left now. Just those who live in their village across the lake. We could heal far more of them, you know. The black-bark harvest brings in far more silvers than they spend on spellpages.”

  “They are still suspicious of us,” Cal added. “But they’ve realised that our magic really works, even if they don’t understand it.”

  “We don’t understand it, either,” Mother said. “But magic isn’t meant to be understood.”

  That was true enough. The Blood Clans lived by their magic and we lived by ours, yet none of us truly knew what we were dealing with. It was all uncertain and mysterious.

  ~~~~~

  Mother and Cal came early the following morning, and we settled down for morning board together. Over bread and honey and cold meat, I told them everything about the blood-bonding that Ly proposed.