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Braving the Storm

Page 17

by Xenia Melzer


  WITH A disdainful look in her eyes, Her Majesty, Queen Anesha of Ummana, listened to the rantings of Mother Venya, high priestess of the Good Mother and supposed envoy for some of the eastern kings. Right now the female was complaining about how Anesha had swept the twin cities clean of all followers of the Good Mother and how she had enacted laws that made a return of those worshipping the goddess impossible. That King Erac of Medelina, as well as the rulers of the other cities in the Confederation, had followed this example didn’t please the priestess. Losing Medelina had been a blow indeed, for the priesthood had used it as a base for their schemes in the past fifty years. The audience with the new queen was her last hope to gain back some ground, but the conversation hadn’t gone in the direction Venya had hoped for. Contrary to what she had been expecting, Anesha was no insecure, inexperienced girl she could bend to her will, but a self-confident, power-conscious woman whose intense gaze seemed to pierce her.

  “Your reasoning, Mother Venya, is quite fascinating, but I don’t see where you’re headed. You have to be aware that I won’t allow your followers to return to Ummana, and you’re in no position to pressure me, either politically nor economically.”

  The beautiful young woman paused for a moment, as if she just had an interesting idea. When she resumed her speech, Venya couldn’t help but think of a constrictor squeezing the last breath out of its prey.

  “I, on the other hand, am able to make your life a living hell. Ummana is the head of a powerful alliance and ruler of the plains. And I’m the queen of it all. You have nowhere near enough resources to get into a fight with me, so why are you here?”

  Venya closed her eyes under the scrutinizing glare. Unfortunately the queen had described her situation quite accurately. There were no aces up her sleeve with which she could threaten—or bribe—Anesha. Out of despair, the priestess tried to appeal to the queen’s humaneness.

  “You can’t tell me you’re not afraid of the bastards, Your Majesty.”

  Anesha leaned back in her chair.

  “Of course I’m afraid. Only a fool wouldn’t be scared of the Lords Canubis and Renaldo.”

  “You’ve just given the answer to your own question. If you decide to follow the Good Mother, she will protect you. I can guarantee that.”

  The queen smiled without warmth.

  “Somehow I doubt it. Apart from the fact that I have relation to the Angel of Death through marriage that, in certain ways, makes me duty-bound to stay loyal to him and his brother, I’ve witnessed what happens to those who dare to oppose them. There is nothing you can do or say to convince me otherwise.”

  Venya hesitated. She was aware of the power the bastards wielded, but she couldn’t imagine what the two had done to intimidate a woman as jaded as Anesha. As if she had read her thoughts, the queen spoke on.

  “I was present when Lord Renaldo damned one of your own for all eternity. He burned her soul as casually as a child pulling off a fly’s wings. And that was before the eighth Emeris was found. I don’t even want to try to imagine what the Angel of Death must be capable of by now.” She shuddered visibly. “No, there is absolutely nothing you can offer me. My advice for you is to accept your defeat.”

  Mother Venya decided to back down for the time being. The queen’s body language had made it clear she wouldn’t budge. It was frustrating. Despite the joint efforts of the priesthood and the aid of the visions they had forced from their seers, the bastards had managed to reclaim their birthright. Their hope to stop the gods of war before they succeeded the creators was shattered, and nobody had to spell out for Venya how uncertain the outcome of the battle between the Good Mother and the bastards would now be. Nobody knew what kind of power Renaldo and Canubis had acquired in addition to their original talents, where their limits were, and what the Emeris were capable of. The followers of the Good Mother went into this battle without being able to assess their enemy, and it almost drove Mother Venya crazy. Although the Good Mother herself had appeared to her in a vision and reassured her that they would soon have an army equaling that of the bastards, the priestess couldn’t relax. In her opinion, losing both Ummana and Medelina, not to mention the other cities of the Confederation, was a bad omen.

  Thoroughly beaten, she bid farewell to Queen Anesha, whose cold gaze had etched itself into her soul.

  AS SOON as the priestess was out of earshot, Anesha got off her throne, reached behind it, and grabbed the bucket that had been waiting there. After she had parted with her breakfast, she cleansed her mouth with some water a servant brought. Who would have thought being pregnant was such a pain in the ass? At the beginning, Cassia had assured her the violent outbursts of morning sickness would be just a bad memory once she reached her second trimester, and only few women had them throughout their entire pregnancy. As it turned out, she was one of those unlucky few. The faintest smell could trigger her nausea, which was inconvenient for a queen who had to maintain an iron façade to stay in control. Cassia was a big help, with her herbal teas, the salves and potions to make her feel better, and her seemingly limitless patience with a very difficult patient. Still, Anesha was more than happy that the days of her swollen belly would be coming to an end soon. Only a few more weeks, and yet another stone to cement her leadership would be on the playing field. Not that she could relax then—that would never be the case—but breathing would become a little easier, in more than one respect.

  Practically immediately after her brother and the barbarians had left, her opponents had come from the shadows to find out whether she was prey or predator. Some of them had paid for this insolence with their lives; others merely had their fur ruffled. With the onset of winter, affairs had been more or less settled within the twin cities, which left Anesha time to deal with her foreign affairs. Erac in particular had proven to be a real nuisance, and there had been times she was tempted to settle the matter of dealing with him permanently. In the end she hadn’t done it, because despite his acting as if he owned her, he was still an important ally, one she couldn’t afford to lose—at least not yet.

  The other members of the Confederation had been keeping a low profile until now, plotting their schemes in secret, watching her every move to determine their own course of action. Anesha employed excellent spies, so she knew the leaders of Kre and Sravrana weren’t happy about her ascent to the throne. For the time being, they would follow the example of Medelina and back her up to a certain extent, but only until they found an opening to snatch power from Ummana. Well, they were in for a surprise. Alemba and Eppirat, which were ruled by military forces, were more inclined to do her bidding. They respected blunt force, something the Pack was by definition. Wa’na Atoka, the only city that elected a tyrant every five years, had remained neutral until now. They were the smallest and latest member of the Confederation, albeit not the weakest. Keeping a close eye on them was an absolute necessity. The current tyrant, Lady Allianna na Wa’ra, tended to strike when least expected, and her bite was venomous. On the other hand, she was also the most levelheaded of the rulers, with a keen eye for details and incredible foresight. If she managed to stay in power, which was more or less a given, her economic visions would make Wa’na Atoka one of the leading cities in the Confederation sooner rather than later.

  Anesha sighed. She was enjoying her new position very much, almost reveling in the power she had accumulated after years of subservience to people she deemed basically incapable of properly ruling the twin cities. Watching how Nambuno, Amicia, and her own sire had made all the big decisions while she had to keep her mouth shut had been hard on the queen. Now she was the one calling the shots, with only her brother and his fearsome husband to still tell her what to do. Luckily enough they were a long way off, and even though her brother had his own spies in the cities, he wasn’t interested in interfering as long as the general direction was to his liking. Which was, apart from her pregnancy, the main reason she kept Cassia close to her. As Master Sic’s stand-in, Jago maintained a close relationship to the l
ast Emeris and never failed to report everything interesting about Ummana to him. Since this information pipeline worked both ways, Anesha was keen on staying on Cassia’s good side. That way she always knew what her irascible brother was up to. Not to mention that Aries, the leader of the guild of smiths, was trying to position Jago as his successor. Should the master of the royal smithy accept, she would also have a close connection to a guild that was growing in power every year.

  The Queen of Ummana smiled. It wasn’t a very pleasant smile, rather one that suggested trouble for anybody who dared to get in her way. Rubbing her growing belly with one hand while the other supported her aching lower back, Anesha called for Aktan to escort her back to her chambers.

  IN THEIR still uncomfortably huge new house, Jago and Cassia were watching as Heljia made her first attempts at standing on her own. With the concentrated look of a young lady determined to conquer new ground this very day, she kept on grabbing the edge of a low table to get her diaper-clad rear into the air. When she finally managed to stand, a radiant smile of pure pride lit up her features. Cassia went over to her daughter and patted her head.

  “Well done, my sweet one. Such a big girl!”

  Jago smiled at this scene of perfect domestic bliss, thanking the heavens for these two wonderful women in his life. He held out his arms to pick his daughter up, and she started to squeal happily. When she snuggled her head against his broad chest, slinging her little arms around his neck, he felt such joy it made him dizzy. Gently he stroked her soft hair, inhaling the wonderful scent of baby lotion and milk that always surrounded her.

  “She’ll probably keep that color, won’t she?”

  Jago was referring to Heljia’s hair, which was a shock of blinding white crowning her head like a halo of light. Cassia smiled a bit wistfully.

  “Probably. But it’s fine. It reminds me of Sic.”

  Jago took his wife’s hand. She was still missing the young man who had entered their lives so abruptly and changed them in more ways than one. Jago was missing him as well, but he had his hands full with work these days, and whenever he touched one of the pieces Sic sent to Ummana on a regular basis, he felt connected to him. And every time the new Emeris sent a letter, it was as if he was still with them, in a sense.

  “You know he had to go. The Valley is his destiny.”

  Cassia snorted. She wasn’t the type to accept reality just because it made sense.

  “That may be the case, but why is he getting back with the monster? Has he lost his mind?”

  Jago pulled Heljia closer to his chest. This was something he didn’t understand either.

  “I don’t know. He never told me anything about Noran. Back then he wanted to avoid the topic at all costs. Perhaps something profound happened? Anyway, it’s his decision, and he seems to be happy, so we should respect it.”

  Cassia sighed deeply. She knew Jago was right, which didn’t make it easier for her.

  “I guess I can do that. Still, I hate the monster.”

  Jago couldn’t suppress a smile and was glad he could hide it in Heljia’s hair. His wife didn’t take kindly to being patronized.

  “And you are free to do so, my dear. Now let’s have dinner. I’m starving.”

  IN MEDELINA, King Erac sat on his throne listening to the introduction of the Generals Liee and Hall’ovan, leaders of Alemba and Eppirat, whom he had invited to an unofficial meeting. Soon after he returned home from Ummana, he found out just how badly he had underestimated the young queen. It was also dawning on him that King Castolus had outmaneuvered him perfectly, getting everything he had wanted and giving nothing in return. To put it mildly, Erac was furious. Everything he had hoped to achieve was slipping through his fingers like quicksand. It was so bad, he even had to fear for Medelina’s standing within the Confederation. If he didn’t act soon, the things he had accomplished would evaporate into thin air while Anesha accumulated all the power and dictated her terms. His only advantage at the moment was that the other cities were wary because of the queen’s youth. Kre and Sravrana, monarchies like Medelina, were on his side for the time being. Wa’na Atoka had always been difficult to deal with, and the new tyrant was dangerous enough to make Erac withdraw for the time being. Which left Alemba and Eppirat—not his favorite partners, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. If he wanted to keep Anesha under control, he needed all the help he could get.

  After the official proceedings finally came to an end, Erac invited the two generals into his private rooms. What he had to tell them was no business of the public. General Liee, a man in his late forties who kept his gray hair brutally short and his tall body in perfect shape, regarded Erac with a certain amount of suspicion. He had accepted the invitation more out of curiosity than anything else, since he wasn’t unhappy about Anesha’s ascent to the throne. General Hall’ovan, on the other hand, was still torn. Having such a young queen leading the Confederation made him uneasy, while at the same time her allies impressed him deeply. He was a man of certain principles, but not as disciplined as Liee, which also showed in his appearance. Although a few years younger than the other general, Hall’ovan had already managed to acquire two extra chins and a growing potbelly. His aquiline features had been softened by alcohol and excessive meals, and he wasn’t as fast as he used to be. Securing his position in Eppirat was becoming more difficult every year, and he was already thinking about abdicating his post before some of the ambitious young officers rising through the ranks made that decision for him. Now he put down his wine and looked expectantly at Erac.

  “May I ask why we were invited so courteously?”

  A nerve in Erac’s face twitched for a moment. Of course Hall’ovan knew, or could at least guess, the reason for their meeting.

  “As I said in the invitation, this is a private gathering to discuss matters that, I feel, concern us all.”

  Liee tried to hide his derisive grin behind the cup he was holding but failed.

  “You don’t happen to talk about those matters that have left you cornered like a rat, do you? From what I’ve heard, King Castolus made a fool of you without you even noticing it.”

  Erac ground his teeth and clenched his fists in order to maintain a congenial façade. Being the laughingstock of the Confederation didn’t sit well with his pride, but unfortunately there wasn’t much he could do about it right now. It would take time to mend the damage Castolus had caused. He managed to force a smile on his lips.

  “I’ve to admit, it wasn’t my best performance ever. But at least I tried to negotiate with the king, while you settled for sending him delegations and presents.”

  “Which, apparently, was the wise thing to do. We didn’t get our asses handed to us.”

  Liee couldn’t help but rub some more salt into Erac’s wound. He resented the King of Medelina as a man of low morals and more ambition than was good for him and his people. Not that he was against low morals in general; what irked him was that Erac thought of himself as a man of integrity. In Liee’s opinion, a leader had to be honest at least with him or herself. Deceiving your own people was sometimes necessary, but lying to yourself was bound to end in catastrophe. And if he wasn’t careful, Erac would take Alemba down with him when he took the fall. Liee was no fool. He knew Erac was planning to act against the new queen of Ummana, which ultimately meant acting against Castolus and the Pack. The general had seen Lord Canubis and Lord Renaldo in action before, and no prize in the world could tempt him to do anything that would invoke their displeasure. Coming to Medelina had been an act of courtesy and, to some extent, curiosity, nothing more. And he would make sure Anesha and Castolus were clear about that.

  Hall’ovan, on the other hand, did seem inclined to give Erac’s proposal some serious consideration. The two men chatted amiably while Liee sat in silence and listened to their ideas, none of which were realistic, and all of which meant certain death should they be stupid enough to act them out. Alemba’s leader was relieved when he finally found an excuse to leave the u
nofficial and highly dangerous gathering.

  BIRTHRIGHT

  1. GROWING UP

  “WHAT’S HAPPENED to you, Daran? You look like a cat that’s had an entire bowl of cream, which is strange since you just had a lesson with Casto.”

  Kalad grinned at the thief, full of unbridled love. Ever since Daran had come back from the dead in such a spectacular manner five months ago, his daily routine had changed dramatically. Even though his masters didn’t like it, Renaldo had insisted on treating Daran according to his new rank. His days were now filled with military training and the merciless drill all new members of the Pack had to endure. Strictly speaking he wasn’t even a slave anymore, but when Aegid and Kalad had wanted to take the collar off, he had stopped them with a smile.

  “You know as well as I do that I’ll always be your possession. Besides, I’m aware how much it pleases you when all the world can see it as well. It’s my honor to wear your colors.”

  And even though they knew how unfair it was toward Daran, the desert brothers accepted this generous offer without hesitation. The thief belonged to them; that was how it always had been, and it wouldn’t change till the end of time and beyond.

  Now the young man was beaming at his lover.

  “The lesson was tiresome, as always, but afterward Lord Renaldo came to me. He wants me to lead the men who are going to the mines tomorrow to escort the caravan with the blue steel! Isn’t that great news?”

  Kalad’s smile froze. He had known this day would come, but he hadn’t thought Renaldo would start treating the thief as a leader so soon. It was nothing big—Daran wouldn’t lead more than fifteen men—still, Kalad couldn’t just ignore it. His thief wouldn’t be in the Valley for at least ten days, and there was always the chance the caravan would get attacked, even though the road between the Valley and the mines was comparatively safe. They could no longer lose Daran to the Mothers, but he wasn’t invincible. Thinking about all the things that could happen to their precious lover made Kalad shudder.

 

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