One Land, One Duke

by Emerson, Ru

  "I didn't come to talk."

  "Oh, yeah? You sure could fool me.” Jennifer let her arms fall to her sides and cautiously slid her right foot forward, feeling for the fallen bo. It slipped across her instep, and she left it balanced there. “If you have a threat to deliver, tell me; I'll pass it on, all right?"

  "I didn't come to mouth empty threats, either. Now that you're so near Sehfi, I can deliver an ultimatum—you and the outland boy turn around, go back at once. Despite the things he said in Podhru, I'll spare his life. Take the guards with you, leave Aletto and his sister. And my nephew's new wife, of course.” He smiled widely. “Perhaps you thought I didn't know of that—of her?"

  "I don't think any of us particularly cared whether you knew or not,” Jennifer said. She swallowed past a suddenly very dry throat.

  "Foolish. And naive. People who don't understand the politics where they find themselves should not meddle in such politics. They might find themselves paying unforeseen consequences—such as a woman who might already carry my grand-nephew. I hope you understand me?"

  "You'll kill her? As you have anyone involved in local politics, at whatever level?"

  She had hoped to catch him off guard, but he merely shook his head. “I see. You assume then that I was responsible for Amarni's death?"

  "I said nothing about that, did I?” Jennifer replied softly.

  "You didn't have to. Advocates,” he spat. “Always playing with words."

  "Not always. Look, give it up; at this point Shesseran won't do anything to you if you back off, and Aletto won't impoverish you."

  "I know that. Because Shesseran wouldn't interfere for anything short of overt murder, which I don't intend to commit. And Aletto—for the last time, understand that I am not handing my Duchy over to Aletto."

  "A warning,” Jennifer began.

  He shook his head, held up a hand; somehow, she couldn't remember how she'd wanted to complete the thought. “No more warnings, outlander advocate woman. Not from you. You've begun to think of yourself as incapable of failure, haven't you? Well—” The twisted smile broadened to a flash of teeth, a nasty, positively evil smirk. He looked beyond her once again and raised a hand, fist clenched. “Let me show you what failure looks like. Beginning—now."

  * * * *

  Lialla had let Robyn talk her into walking around a little on the shaded side of the wagon and under the young, slender trees; at the moment, she was rather sorry she'd come out, because her legs ached and her knees wanted to give way at every step. Her head ached fiercely. Robyn was undoubtedly trying to be cheerful and keep her spirits up, but now, she merely sounded desperately worried. Lialla managed to keep her temper in check, even managed a few monosyllabic responses to Robyn's anxious questions. Once they returned to the wagon, Lialla leaned against it gratefully, let Robyn think she was hungry and thirsty—she wasn't, but it got rid of the woman for a while, at least.

  Where was Jennifer? She couldn't see very clearly and at the moment, it was particularly irritating. “Somebody?” she said in a low voice. “Someone—is anyone there? Chris?"

  "Li?” She heard his voice a little distance away, felt his hand on her arm. “Hey, you all right out here?"

  "Fine.” She nodded, tried not to wince as the movement set her head pounding. “I—is Jen here? I need her."

  "Not yet. Hey, that's kind of odd; I thought she and Dahven were right behind us. Hang on.” His hand fell away and she sensed him moving away from her; heard the faint scuff of his high-tops against dirt. “Uh-oh."

  "Chris?” Lialla squinted against glare reflected from the canvas, felt her way along the side of the wagon after him. “Chris, what?"

  "I can see Dahven; he's sitting out there on his horse, fighting with it. What the hell is that thing, though?"

  "Don't do this, tell me!” Lialla insisted.

  "Sorry. There's—I think it's Hell-Light out there, big ball of it, don't see anything inside it really, except some kind of movement."

  Lialla withdrew into herself, forcing contact with Thread. It momentarily threatened to make her ill, shifting her center of balance so she swayed back and forth. Chris wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “That is Light,” she said. “Jadek."

  "Oh, jeez. Not another one of his fog-ball phone booths? Like out in the desert?"

  "A—what you said,” Lialla agreed tersely.

  "Jen?"

  "Inside. With Jadek—Chris, no, don't go that way, you can't help like that. Get Afronsan's man, get him out here where he can see this, go, do it fast! Go, I'm fine!” She could feel the doubtful look he gave her but he obediently let her down onto the ground and took off at a run.

  Fortunately, he hadn't asked how she knew what was out there, and who: It would have scared him half silly. Lialla knew, and it scared her. She could feel the pull, Jadek's hand on the invasive Light that huddled just under her ribs; could still feel the almost overwhelming, horrifying desire she'd fought off, to snatch hold of Chris's dagger, to run it full into his belly—or now, to find her way back past the wagon, to find Aletto, draw the knife he wore against his backbone and drive it up, into his heart. To kill, rend, damage, to spill blood, run her fingers through it ... Her jaw was trembling, despite the way she clamped her teeth together; her hands were sweating, and the moment she quit concentrating even the least bit, it broke over her like the waves she and Chris had dodged that wonderful, silly afternoon near Caro Ellaway's inn, outside Podhru. He'd taken her hunting shells, he'd shown her the bubbly air holes where crabs lurked under the sand, took her across rocks and persuaded her to touch the odd little things that closed around her fingers. She'd laughed, giggled like a girl—and Jadek wanted her to kill the boy who'd given her that?

  Suddenly she was furious; to use her against her brother—against the boy who had become another brother. “He'll pay for that,” she swore through clenched teeth. She came up onto her knees, closed her eyes and sought the Light that had inhabited her for two days and nights.

  She wasn't afraid of it any longer, even knowing what Jadek could do with it. Maybe knowing the worst helped, but at the moment there wasn't time for fear, wasn't any room left in her with so much anger spilling over and filling her. Someone shouted on the far side of the wagon, someone else's voice rose in a shriek. Robyn—Robyn had shifted. Jadek, unable to manipulate his niece to violence, had sought an easier mark. Lialla ignored the shrill cry of the enormous hunting bird, ignored too the chill and darkness as its shadow enveloped her and passed on. Light was a wad, like Thread—like the Thread that had marked Jadek's bruise on her face, where he'd struck her, the bruises he'd laid on her brother's back with his own stick. The strands were much finer, totally silent, bright enough to cast blood-red lines against the insides of her eyelids. But not so different, after all, she told herself repeatedly as she began working her way into the mass. Almost, it helped.

  * * * *

  Light dulled Jennifer's hearing but she was aware of the shrill, spiraling cry that was surely Robyn. She wheeled around, clutching at the horse behind her as her knees threatened to give. Dahven, not far away, his face white, off his horse now but unable to force his way any closer; behind him and above, a slow-moving, broad-winged black shape: Robyn. She spun back. “Jadek, you bastard, you did that, didn't you?"

  "Of course I did.” He laughed shortly. “I warned you, woman, warned you all! Look at her,” he added softly. “She doesn't do well under sunlight, does she? I could turn her human up there. But I don't really need to; all I need do is create wind at the proper moment; it will send her out beyond the ledge. She'll fall, and she'll die."

  "If she does, you won't live much longer,” Jennifer spat at him. “You can't control all of us—"

  "Don't threaten me. I'm not here, remember? All you can do is kill this body I inhabit, but I can still accomplish whatever I choose. It's finished, here and now, for all of you. Because Lialla is mine, thanks to her foolish gesture in Podhru. Aletto will seek her comfort once his wife falls
to her death and Lialla has my instruction how to deal with him. He'll die, too."

  "No."

  "No? How will you stop me? Once Aletto is dead, she will kill that outlander boy; Aletto's armsmen will have no choice but to stop her. You, arrogant outlander bitch, you and the Thukar's heir won't find life so short, or death so simple.” Jennifer merely shook her head. Kill the guard? She couldn't kill an innocent man. But there were other ways. She slid her foot across the ground in search of her fallen bo. Jadek looked up once more. “Look at her. Such a shapeshifter can't compete long with the sun. She'll fall within another three wingstrokes."

  Got it. She worked her toes under the bo, prayed she had it somewhere near the center so it would be balanced on her instep. Now, to distract him. “The men up there?” she said loudly. “Aletto's pitiful little guard, you called it? Some of it is Lord Afronsan's; he sent observers. I'd say you've given them a quite an eyeful."

  Jadek stared at her for one very long moment, his eyes black and the smile hanging forgotten on his lips. He laughed then. “An excellent bluff—or it would be, if I didn't understand Shesseran and his paper-mounding brother better than that. You've lost, woman. Watch the shapeshifter,” he added softly, and began fanning the air with his left hand. Robyn's shrill cry answered—it sounded frightened, and no longer entirely bird.

  Jennifer stooped and sharply drew her right foot up at the same moment, tossing the bo into the air; she wrapped both hands around it, straightened her knees and slammed the long end up. Jadek ducked, but the tip hit his shoulder squarely. The sphere trembled, faded slightly. Jennifer whispered an apology to the man whose body Jadek had borrowed, swung the other end around in a short arc and cracked it across the man's upheld fingers. He yelped, cursed echoingly.

  "Jennifer, duck!” She dropped to both knees and threw her arms over the back of her neck as something flashed past the horse's nose; the animal snorted and tramped nervously back. A howl burst from the man's throat and seemed to go on forever. Jennifer looked up to see the sphere vanish, the gray-bearded armsman swaying back and forth. Dahven's dagger was buried in his shoulder. The guard wailed again—a sound that now bore no trace whatever of Jadek—tottered forward a pace and fell.

  Jennifer scrambled to her feet, shoving past her now frantic horse and let her head fall back, one forearm shading her eyes, the bo still clutched in white-knuckled fingers. Robyn was far overhead—much too high for the jerky fashion she was flying. And she didn't look entirely bird any longer. The cry was even less bird, more woman, entirely terrified. “Birdy!” she yelled, “Birdy, damnit! Concentrate, pay attention to me, and get—away—from—the—damn—ledge!"

  "Help me!"

  "Birdy, I can't do anything, you have to! Come on, turn toward the sun, do it, woman! Right into the sun—” For a long, dreadful moment, she couldn't remember how to breathe, her chest hurt and Robyn was hanging right over that hellish drop, blonde hair incongruously flung under the leading edge of both long, black wings, the way it so often hung down her chest, blowing back under the arms of her tee-shirt. And then somehow she managed to bank; two long sweeps and she was over open meadow. “Birdy! Remember how to circle? Do it, just like before!"

  "Can't—just can't—!"

  "Robyn, move your damn butt, get it down here!"

  "Mom!” Chris was somehow with her, giving Jennifer something strong to lean against. Edrith stood beside her, gripping her fingers hard, and she couldn't even remember how or when he'd taken hold of them. “Mom,” Chris yelled. “You pay attention to Jen, all right? Come on, you can do it!"

  "Can't—"

  "Robyn?” Where had Lialla come from? The sin-Duchess was right under Robyn, moving with her, and there was nothing weak or vacillating about her movements. “Robyn, concentrate on me, I'm going to lay down a sphere, you'll be able to see it, if you can't stay shifted the sphere will catch you. You'll have to stay right above me, though, can you manage that?"

  "Can't—"

  "You can!” Lialla insisted sharply. “Bring the wings in, start your spiral down, I'll hurry too! Come on, Robyn! Aletto's waiting for you, he's afraid to look, don't do this to him, Robyn!"

  "Help—me—” But Lialla was hastily and deftly working Thread—Thread and Light, Jennifer realized dazedly—weaving something similar to a Wielder's silver-thread sphere, similar to Jadek's Light sphere—and yet, not really like either. Jennifer gave the sin-Duchess a sidelong glance, shifted into Thread, and felt it. Curious: It didn't affect her the way Lialla's straight use of Thread did—her shift and her contact with Lialla's work didn't distract Lialla, either.

  She could almost feel the effort it took Robyn to draw in her wings, the horror that gripped her sister, the certainty that she was going to fall like a brick. But somehow she was descending, in an awkward but tight circle, directly above Lialla's sphere. Her head was fully hair, there were fingertips visible under the feathers; the sense of a human face under a superimposed bird's face growing by the moment. But she was down with a bounce as though she'd landed on an innerspring mattress.

  Chris let go of his aunt and ran the few paces to where his mother was just sitting up, clinging to Lialla's arm. “Oh, jeez, kid, I think I'm cured,” she said pantingly. “Never again!"

  "During the day, I guess,” Chris said anxiously. “Hey, here comes your old man.” He gave her a hard, quick hug and got to his feet as Aletto came up, face white and his limp very obvious. “She's all right, scared is all.” Aletto wrapped his arms around Robyn; Robyn buried her face against his shoulder.

  Jennifer folded at the knees and sat hard, bringing Edrith down with her. The scent of fresh, bruised grass and flowers assaulted her nose, sending her into a sneezing fit. By the time she got that under control, Dahven was kneeling on her other side, eyeing her anxiously, one arm around her shoulders. She nodded before he could ask. “Yeah, fine, I'm all right. That guy, though—the guard."

  "Lialla's taking care of him. I hope I didn't misread the situation."

  "Situation—? Oh. You didn't, that was Jadek. Using someone once again. He's not—dead, is he?"

  "I didn't kill him, no. He was still bleeding when I came away from him. I'm sorry; I tried to get to you and couldn't."

  "I know.” Jennifer laughed shortly. “I'm getting used to the damn things, I guess, I don't even find anything strange about being wrapped up in one any more. Funny: Three months ago, the extent of my experience with magic was rabbits out of hats. You did fine; I don't know that I would have tried throwing a knife through Light."

  "Well, why not? I admit it didn't occur to me until after the thing started to fade."

  "I'd have missed; I've got lousy aim."

  "I admit I was fortunate; I seldom practiced throwing knives and I was never very good at it. And I didn't dare try until after you struck out, and I was certain the man was a threat."

  "Was it obvious?” Jennifer asked rather anxiously. “Obvious enough for Afronsan's man?"

  Edrith answered her. “Don't know; he doesn't say much, just looks at everything like it's giving him a stomachache."

  "Just so.” Dahven laughed. “Jen, why don't you get up so we can go ask him?"

  "Good idea.” She extended a hand to each. “Help me up. I want to check Aletto's new man first, though. Poor fellow."

  * * * *

  Afronsan's man wasn't forthcoming about the incident, or about his reaction to it. Jennifer wasn't certain after talking to the clerk whether he'd seen anything, whether he was trying to remain impartial to both sides—whether perhaps Jadek had done something to his eyes, or even possibly bought the man off before they ever left Podhru. He did look dyspeptic, but then, he had the first time she'd seen him. Probably it wouldn't do her any good to push the issue; the man no doubt felt his opinions, if any, were Afronsan's property and none of her concern.

  They rode on almost at once. Aletto was white and shaken, but now all the more insistent upon reaching Duke's Fort as soon as possible. Robyn, no less shaken, rode i
n the wagon for most of the afternoon and for part of the time Aletto stayed with her; later he went back to his horse and rode where she could see him.

  The road, fortunately, remained fairly level for most of the afternoon, smooth-surfaced, and shaded.

  The guard went back to his horse for a while. Lialla had healed the cut in his upper arm—Dahven's knife had only sliced skin, barely touched muscle and hung up in his sleeve. She'd also checked the horse's hoof, to discover that there was no foreign object and apparently no damage—the animal walked as well as any of them. He came out of the experience much better than his master: The guard swayed in the saddle rather alarmingly until Aletto found a way to convince him to take over driving the wagon.

  Jennifer understood a little how the man felt; after even such a short confrontation with Jadek, she was finding it hard to keep up with the pace Aletto's guard was setting. Dahven watched her rather anxiously when he thought she didn't see, and stayed right next to her.

  Lialla rode a little apart from all of them, and Jennifer could feel her touching Thread, rather as though she were enumerating the individual strands of it. It didn't vibrate through her as it normally did when another worked Thread so near to hand. Jennifer wondered what the sin-Duchess had done to overcome the effects of Light, or perhaps incorporate it—what the woman was working with or against at the moment. What she'd done to break through her own terror to confront Light. She was too tired to try and talk to her about any of it, though; and Lialla didn't seem to want conversation. Chris had tried when they set out, and he came away grumbling; he and Edrith moved out together for a while, just in front of the wagon, and it sounded as though they were working out more rap.