“If I believed in such things, I would call it a miracle. The baby has turned and is in the right position. We must prepare her to bring the child into the world.”
Sabine seemed so weak lying there on the blankets. I sponged her brow and coaxed her to drink water. She drank small amounts before another pain hit her and she was writhing in anguish. Sabine was exhausted, but there was a new determination in her eyes that my lies had given her. The magiker instructed her in how to begin. I held her hand while Ester helped hold her legs.
She pushed for several hours before she collapsed back onto her pillows. “I cannot push. I am too tired.”
“If you want your child born alive, you must push!” the magiker shouted.
We were all exhausted; even the magiker showed signs of fatigue. It had been a trying couple of days. We were near the end; I could feel it. Very soon the child of two crowns would be born, and the prophecy’s final stages would be born with it. Sabine pushed again and clutched so tight onto my hand I thought she would break my fingers. The sheets were torn from Sabine clutching at them, and her hair clung to her forehead in tendrils.
The magiker had her push. Then we waited. Push and wait, it seemed to go on for an eternity when in reality it must have been a few hours. Then finally she pushed with all her might, and the magiker stopped her.
“I can see his head,” the magiker cried.
Sabine’s face was beyond pain. Her skin was pale and stretched. Sweat was running down her fevered flesh in rivulets.
“Push, just once more,” the magiker instructed.
She scrunched up her face and pushed. She screamed as the child finally broke free of her womb. There was a deafening silence as the magiker cleared the child’s airway with a towel, and then he cried out. Sabine sobbed.
I helped the magiker with the tiny squirming infant. He was covered in blood, and his face was bright red. He screamed loud and long. He is healthy. I was flooded with relief. After such a long labor, I feared the worst. His head was covered in thick dark hair. The magiker cleaned him up and brought him to Sabine in blankets. She held out her hands. Dark circles rimmed her eyes as she took the child into her arms.
She smiled down at him. “He is beautiful, my son. Welcome to life.”
I looked over her shoulder. The baby was crying but was soothed when he was in his mother’s arms. He opened his eyes and stared up at Sabine with large liquid blue eyes. They looked just like his father’s.
I touched the soft down of his head. When the child of two crowns is born so is the destruction of all things. How can this innocent be the harbinger of such a dire prophecy? I gazed down at this baby. I was overcome by a feeling of affection for him, despite everything. I want to protect him, to prevent the future I foretold for him.
“I will make a world you and my daughter will be proud to live in,” I whispered only loud enough for him and his mother to hear. Sabine smiled at me, then back at the child. The time of the prophecy was upon us, and there was much I needed to do in order to prepare.
Chapter Twenty
Adair came to see his son the next day. He brought Layton and a few other high-ranking dukes; among them were my father, Duke Wodell, and Dukes Quince and Nanore. I had helped Sabine dress in a white nightgown. She was weak from a loss of blood during the birth, and a fever still left her skin aflame. The magiker had been plying her with different remedies, but nothing seemed to bring the fever down. Though her eyes were fever bright, she sat with the assistance of some pillows and held herself with dignity when the council came to inspect the child. Adair only had eyes for his son. He lifted the child from his bassinet and held him aloft.
“My son,” he whispered. The baby looked at him with passive blue eyes. Adair turned back to Sabine. “Thank you for this gift.”
She bowed her head to him, but there was no love or affection there.
Adair noticed me watching him and beamed back in my direction. He cradled the child close to him, rocking him back in forth, speaking nonsense burble to him. When I see him holding his child, I can almost forget what a monster he is. Even I could not deny his love for his son. Layton peered over Adair’s shoulder at the baby. Now is not the time to have second thoughts, not when we are so close to the end.
“A fine boy, he has your eyes, I think,” Layton said.
“He does!” Adair laughed and twirled him about.
The baby cried.
“Adair, be careful with him. He is newly born and fragile,” Sabine scolded him.
Adair’s expression fell like a chastised child. He sat down on the edge of the bed with the baby still in his arms. Sabine was looking down on the life they had made together. Her love showed through even the exhaustion she must have felt and the dark circles under her eyes.
“He is a miracle.” Adair pressed a kiss to his son’s brow.
I unconsciously touched my stomach. Will Johai ever get the opportunity to dote upon his daughter? I hope so. I shook myself. I know he will. My plan cannot fail. It set me ill at ease to think about taking a life while looking upon a new one. I turned away from the small family and found Layton watching me. My father was talking with Duke Quince and Nanore, and the trio did not seem to notice as Layton came close to me. I turned to face the royal family once again, pretending to be enamored by the scene. Layton’s hand brushed against mine, and I felt the point of parchment hidden within his grasp. I took it from him and pressed my hand to my abdomen once more, where I hid the parchment in the folds of my sash. I fidgeted with the sash for a moment, pretending to be straightening it.
“The child is beautiful.” But will he be a fair ruler? I wondered. I had been thinking about that all afternoon. If Arlene agreed to make Sabine’s son her heir, it would heal the wounds between our countries. It’s what Adair wants, but when he is gone, can the child become a different person, one not in my vision?
“He will be a fine king, I am sure,” Sabine said with a sigh.
The tension in the room was palpable. Duke Quince cleared his throat, and Duke Nanore muttered beneath his breath. I caught my father’s gaze from across the room. He shook his head, telling me to keep my silence. Only those in the Order acknowledged Adair’s want to bring the kingdoms under one rule. Sabine must have been mad with fever to speak so openly in front of a mixed company.
“He is my sister’s heir,” Sabine elaborated, “until she has a child of her own. Of course, it is possible he may never be king.” Sabine took the babe from Adair’s arms and rocked him in her arms. She stared down at him, cooing as he fidgeted and wiggled, nuzzling at her breast.
Adair laughed. “My wife has grand ambitions for our son. He may or may not be a king in a foreign land one day. However, I can promise he will want for nothing.”
The tension ebbed, and the dukes took turns looking upon the child one by one. When they were finished, the baby’s nurse came and took the baby away so Sabine could rest. She dismissed me for the time being with the promise of calling me again soon to talk more. I felt weary beyond measure. Now that the birth was past, I felt my exhaustion weighing me down like a stone. I don’t even recall how I made it back to my chamber, but when I arrived, Elenna was waiting for me.
“A message came for you from the Jerauchian ambassador.” She handed me the missive.
I flipped it over, reading my new title scrawled across the front. Maea Diranel, Duchess of Diranel and House of Slatone.
I sighed. The mechanizations of court do not rest, I suppose. “I’ll read it in my chamber. I’m feeling tired.”
“I’ve left a pitcher of water by the nightstand and a bit of bread and cheese if you wish to eat,” Elenna replied.
I nodded and headed into my chamber. Light was coming from the double doors beyond the curtain, and the shafts of light were speckled with dust. I sank down on the edge of my bed and then flopped backwards, the missive from the ambassador still clutched in my hand. I thought to close my eyes for just a moment. When I opened them again, the chamber was
dark but for a fire which had been lit in the fireplace. Elenna’s work most like; she was fastidious with her duties.
I lit a candle and read the missive from the ambassador. It was simple enough. He wanted me to perform a reading the next day. I wrote a reply, which I would have Elenna deliver in the morning. Next I extracted the message Layton had given to me in Sabine’s chamber. It had been folded over quite a few times, and I had to place my ink pot and the jar of sand on it to keep it from folding back on itself. His message was direct.
I have made inquiries, and there are many that are sympathetic to our cause. Should we bring the matter of succession before the council, we should see matters settled in our favor. Tread carefully; Adair grows more suspicious every day.
When I finished reading, I tossed the note into the flames of the fireplace. I watched as the paper curled and burned. My arms were wrapped around my waist. My daughter fluttered in my womb. It was still the lightest touch, almost small enough to disregard, but I knew by instinct that it was her and she was reacting to my emotions. Do not worry. I will protect you, I thought. It felt strange to be the puppet master for once and not the puppet, and it left me with a constant feeling of unease. Is this how Damara felt when she was trying to stop Adair and Sabine’s marriage? The water only gets deeper from here. One wrong move and I will lose it all. I could not think these things. I had to be confident that I was doing what must be done. All I do is for the benefit of the kingdom. I have to believe that. Then why did I feel like I was more a traitor than a savior?
I sought out the Jerauchian ambassador the next day, on the pretense of a dream reading. Johai’s grandfather was just as I remembered him. His dark brown eyes were shrewd and assessing as I greeted him in the receiving room of his palace apartment. His white hair was receding, and he had an angular face that seemed incapable of anything but scowling.
Refreshments were laid out for us, and when I took a goblet and a bit of mutton and cheese, the servant left the platter, and we were alone at last. I had expected the priest of Mrawa to join us, but it seemed the ambassador wanted to speak alone. It was for the best. What I had planned needed as few ears to hear it as possible.
“Thank you for coming upon such short notice,” he said as he took a seat across from me. He held his goblet in his hand tightly enough that I thought he would crack the stem.
“I appreciate you contracting my services once more. There are many at court who would scorn me after what I have been accused of.”
He nodded. “Yes. The whispers paint you as a sorceress. They think the king is besotted. It does not help matters that you attended the queen’s childbed, and now she is said to be weak with fever after a long difficult delivery.” He took a sip of his wine.
I swallowed my pride and the insult he hid behind his words. This is a game, and I know how to play it well.
“If only I had magic powers such as I have been rumored to have. It would make my life easier, and it would save me from the game of politics.”
He gave me a tight smile. “You seemed a skilled player, nonetheless.”
I chuckled. “Mayhap, but it was skill won at a price. I hope you do not wish me to continue pretending this meeting is about reading your dreams.”
He set his wineglass down with a soft clink. He folded his hands in front of him as he regarded me. “You are straight to the point. I admire that in a woman. My grandson spoke highly of you. I can see why he admired you.”
My heart was caught in my throat for a moment. Johai spoke of me to his grandfather, or was it the specter? It did not seem like a thing the Johai I knew would do. He was ever a private person. It must be some trick of the specter’s.
“Are you still in contact with him?” I arched a brow. Will he take the bait?
He laughed, but there was no humor in it. I was not even sure if he was amused or if he felt it a necessary part of the game. “You are trying to accuse me of consorting with a traitor?”
“I am merely speaking to the grandfather of a man I care about deeply.” I rested my hand on the tiny swell of my stomach. His eyes flickered towards where my hand rested. “I am carrying Johai’s child. And I would have him make it through this war unscathed.”
He did not flinch. “You are the king’s consort. I heard it rumored that you are carrying his child. You would have me believe that you carry my grandson’s child?”
“I would have you believe whatever you wish. You sought me out, your excellence, and I think I have something that you need. As it turns out, you can help me as well.”
He leaned back in his chair and pressed his fingertips together. “I would hear what you offer before I give my own counteroffer.”
I had expected as much. From what I knew of the ambassador, he was a shrewd man. “I need someone to deliver messages for me to Johai in secret. I would also have Jerauch join Danhad in the battle against Neaux and Biski. I am sure King Adair has already approached you in this matter.”
He nodded his head. “Yes, and what would we get out of this bargain?”
“Land, trade, whatever you desire, perhaps a marital alliance. I know the regent sent his daughter to influence ties between our kingdoms. We could arrange a marriage between his other children with high-ranking dukes here in Danhad.”
“What about yourself? My lord and master, the king regent, has a son who is not much older than you. It would honor him to have you marry his son.”
“I am afraid I cannot do that.”
He smiled a thin smile. “I can see that.” He leaned forward. “Everything you promise me now has been promised before. Do not think you are the first to come to me with offers of land and trade. We in Jerauch are rich with trade, and this king on the Danhad throne favors merchants. What would I win in deposing him, which I assume is your aim, since you wish to correspond with my grandson.”
“You made a pact with Damara long ago, and I doubt it was to keep Adair on the throne. Whatever she promised you, I will fulfill for you if you will do this for me.” It was a reckless promise, but I was desperate enough to make it.
“Damara promised to make me regent in place of the current one. Tell me, diviner, do you have the power to make that happen?”
I hesitated to answer. In truth, no, but the king could do that. If Layton took the throne, and he heeded my words, it might be possible. The regent of Jerauch was chosen by a council, and Danhad had a voice in that decision as the ruling kingdom over Jerauch. Layton may be willing to help; at least I hope he will.
“I would bring your case before the king when the time comes,” I replied neutrally.
He laughed. “You would give me empty promises, and I would take all the risk. Is that the measure of it?”
I flushed but did not back down. “I may have only words, but you have seen my power, and words are the weapon I use. Either you can take what I offer, or find some other likely person who will give you the crown you so desire.”
He chuckled. This time there was more hint of amusement. “You drive a hard bargain.” He tugged at his pointed beard as he thought. “I will send your messages, and I will bring the matter of the army to my regent; that is all I can promise.”
It had to be enough. I did not know any other way. “Good, then I have my first message for you to deliver.” I produced a folded piece of parchment from a hidden pocket in the folds of my gown. “See that it is sent as soon as possible.”
“I suppose it would be to my benefit to have my grandson on the throne,” he said as he put the missive in his coat pocket. “He will be much more inclined to my request than your current king.”
I did not correct his assumption. It would only help my own plan. The different pieces of the plot were coming together. I was fortunate everything was going so smoothly. Nearly too fortunate, it is also so easy I expect something to go awry. When I returned to my apartments, Elenna had a message for me. Sabine’s condition had worsened. The magiker said she was asking for me. I did not hesitate to go to her. When I arriv
ed outside her chamber door, I rapped on it several times in quick succession. She just has a fever. There’s nothing to worry about, I told myself, but the urgency of the magiker’s message worried me. Duchess Magdale answered the door. She was pale with dark circles under her eyes. She looked as if she had not slept in some time.
“I’m glad you’ve come. She’s been asking for you.” The duchess exhaled as she reached for me and dragged me into the room beyond. “She will not eat, and I’ve done everything the magiker has told me to do to keep her cool,” she said quickly, her words overlapping one another.
Sabine was lying in her bed. There were blankets piled upon her. I could see the sheen of sweat upon her brow from the entryway. She looked fragile as if she were made of fine porcelain. All the color had drained from her cheeks, leaving her ashen and haunted. I walked over to her bedside. She was sleeping. I touched her hand, which was on top of the coverlet, and it was scorching. I withdrew my hand.
“How long has she been like this?” I asked the duchess.
She wrung her hands. “Since late last night. The magiker has been here several times. We’ve tried to get her to drink the tonics, but nothing works.”
I looked away from her and back down at Sabine. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at me. “Maea?” she croaked.
I sat down on the edge of the bed. “I’m here. Don’t worry.”
She closed her eyes again and took a rattling breath. She took a few more deep breaths before saying, “I’m dying, Maea.”
Tears stung the back of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. “Don’t be foolish. This is just a cold. You’ll be well soon enough.”
She tried to shake her head, but she did not seem to have the energy even for that. “I’ve done so many things that I regret.” She inhaled deeply and then coughed, a racking sound that made me shudder. “Maea, I am sorry. I should have been a better friend to you.”
“You are a good friend, my truest…” I wasn’t sure if it was a lie or the truth anymore.
[fan] diviners trilogy - complete series Page 83
