And Less Than Kind

by Mercedes Lackey

  Elizabeth's mind leapt back and forth between the ultimately authoritarian Oberon as she had seen him last, massive and utterly magical, and the horrible possibility of an Oberon small and shrunken pleading with her to make him a duke or send the power of joy to his dying realm.

  That could not be, she told herself. Lord Ffrancon had said Oberon would open a Gate for her. That meant Oberon had power. Elizabeth clung to that thought. At an hour before midnight she dismissed her ladies, saying she wished to be alone to pray and consider the great news the men of the Privy Council had brought her. The two who remained in her bedchamber she bespelled to sleep.

  Now Blanche helped her into her very finest gown, a cloth-of-gold kirtle heavily embroidered with roses and thistles with an overgown of black velvet embroidered with gold thread. The very wide sleeves of the overgown were turned back so fitted sleeves of the cloth-of-gold kirtle showed. A high collar of pleated lawn was fastened around her neck and the long chains of jewel-set gold that Denno had given her hung over her breast. Around her waist she wore another gift from Denno, square links of gold, each holding a precious stone.

  Promptly at midnight the wall where the Gate had always opened yawned widely. This time there was no luminous black spot that grew into a Gate; the Gate was simply there. But this time Elizabeth could not make out what was on the other side. Surely Oberon had not decided he would make her step into oblivion. Surely she was too valuable, heir apparent to the throne. Oberon always played games of power. He only wanted to frighten her.

  Elizabeth took a deep breath, lifted her chin and stepped forward. She did not feel as if she were falling, nor did her vision go black. She simply was standing with her back to the huge double doors of an enormous chamber. The roof soared above her into unseeable dimness, twice or thrice the height of St. Paul's, yet silver light shone from it and the whole chamber was nearly bright.

  A weird combination of relief and rage made Elizabeth's teeth snap together. She had no doubt that Oberon had created this hall, possibly a whole great building and a landscape to go with it, possibly for this occasion alone. There was no lack of power in Oberon—or in Titania either; she glowed light beside his radiant darkness. How dare they? How dare they abandon their kingdom to sorrow and decay?

  She stood at the head of a long aisle, which ended at a dais on which was a huge, magnificent double throne. One throne that glowed with a pearly light and on it she saw Oberon and Titania, seated together.

  Elizabeth started down the aisle and saw it was bordered on each side by seats, which looked to her countless. The seats were filled with Sidhe—to her left, which would be the right of the throne, a mass of golden hair and bright green eyes; to her right, the left of the throne, a more mixed group, dark and light but nearly all with glowing dark eyes. And all those glowing eyes were fixed on her with open hostility.

  Elizabeth's shields rose, thick, impenetrable, and her lips tightened into a thin line. She grew angrier and angrier with each step she took down the aisle. One move, one insult, one hiss of "Silly weak mortal" and she would Push them all right through the walls of the building, and the throne and its occupants, too. Heat built in her belly and spread up over her chest and arms. She slowed, turning slightly toward the hostile Sidhe.

  A huge laugh, surprisingly warm and companionable despite its volume, broke her intensifying rage. And Elizabeth found herself clear of the hostile Sidhe, standing right before the throne.

  "Gently, gently, Lady Elizabeth," Oberon said. "This is a Great Court to make peace—"

  "Whose peace?" Elizabeth snapped. "I will have no peace dictated to me. I have lost no battles. I have not yet begun to fight."

  Titania's thrilling musical laugh cut off whatever Oberon had been about to say. "Peace, my sweet Elizabeth. You know I have ever been your friend. I promise no one, not even my dear dictatorial lord, will force any measure on you. That is not our purpose here."

  The placatory tone soothed, at least enough for Elizabeth to come to her senses and realize that she could not win a contest with Oberon and Titania no matter how contemptuous she was over their abandonment of their subjects. She drew a breath and dropped a deep curtsey to Titania.

  When she raised her head, Elizabeth was startled again by a beauty so great it could not be remembered. The golden hair, the green eyes, the translucent flesh that seemed lit from within . . . one could tell over what one saw, could bring up a memory of the High Queen, but the reality was always so far greater than the memory it was a shock.

  "And will you not give some sign of respect to my lord also?" Titania asked, laughing again.

  Her knowing eyes glanced sidelong at Oberon. Elizabeth saw Titania clearly remembered that every time Elizabeth and Oberon met there was a greater or lesser clash of wills. And Elizabeth suddenly realized she was alone—for the first time she was Underhill with no Denno beside her.

  "Where is—" about to say my Denno, Elizabeth also recalled Oberon's violent objection in the past to her claim of possession of his subject and decided on a little diplomacy "—Lord Denoriel?" she asked.

  A black eyebrow, as black and cleanly marked as if drawn in ink by a master hand, lifted. Elizabeth had a moment, her rage abated, to marvel again at Oberon's beauty, as great as that of Titania's if completely opposite. At the hair, so black it shone with blue and green and purple lights, waving back from the widow's peak on the high, white brow; at the eyes, so luminous one could swear they were light, although they were as black as the hair. A perfect nose, straight and strong, and a mouth so beautifully curved that for all her resentment, Elizabeth was much tempted to kiss it.

  "Behind you," Oberon said, lips quirking with amusement.

  Elizabeth turned, blinking, and saw that her friends were all seated in the first row of right-hand chairs. Angry because Oberon had brought her to the dais without giving her a chance to see even Da and Denno—and thus made her look foolish—she opened her mouth to snap.

  In that moment she remembered Oberon's way of testing people. A queen should not allow herself to be annoyed into doing things that were stupid and dangerous—at least not where she had no power to enforce her will. In a little while, Elizabeth told herself, she would be a queen. She smiled sweetly at Oberon and sank into another deep curtsey.

  "Thank you, Your Majesty," she murmured dulcetly.

  "Very good," Oberon exclaimed, laughing that warm, intimate laugh that made one sure one was laughed with, not laughed at. "Very well recovered," he praised. "Now, do be seated among your companions."

  He gestured her up and toward the seats. Now she saw there was an empty place between Da and Denno and she went and sat down. Aleneil was on the other side of Denno, who frowned and shook his head slightly at her in remonstrance for her behavior, and Mwynwen, head down, shoulders slumped, beyond. Rhoslyn, looking very wide-eyed and anxious, sat next to Da with Pasgen at the end of the row.

  "I have come to look into several problems I had no time to solve before I left Underhill," Oberon said.

  His voice was mild, his face nearly expressionless, but he glanced over toward the left and a wave of movement, almost a shrinking away, passed through the Sidhe there. Two seats were separated from the rest, set at right angles into the space before the dais. Elizabeth caught a glimpse of very gold hair worn in a low fringe on the forehead; she had seen that Sidhe before, she thought, but could not remember where or when. Beside her was a male who, had Oberon not been there might have been impressive. He also had very black hair and eyes but he looked faded and tawdry compared to the High King. Elizabeth was sure that was Vidal Dhu, who had tried so long and hard to kill her.

  "There was an Evil set loose Underhill and that Evil was trapped and then transferred to the mortal world. Such acts are forbidden." Oberon's head turned. "Harry FitzRoy, you began this enterprise."

  Elizabeth gasped with fear and was about to leap to her feet to stand with her Da. Denno caught her arm and held her still. She knew how Denno loved her Da and knew if Den
no expected Oberon to strike at her Da, Denno would be standing in front of him to take the blow. She sat quiet. A moment later she saw Denno was right and was soon fascinated by how Oberon extracted the truth of what had happened from each being who had had any part in the affair from the escape of the Evil from Alhambra to Its expulsion into the Void by Elizabeth's Push.

  When the tale was told, each having given evidence of his or her part, Oberon nodded. Then he held out his hand.

  "Come here, Mwynwen."

  She was still weeping over her inability to separate the Evil from the unborn or to help Mary. Elizabeth, seeing her clearly when she rose to go to Oberon, was shocked at how ill she looked and how tired. The High King gestured for her to step up on the dais and took her hand.

  "That Evil touched you," Oberon said. "It could not take hold on you but it has tainted your life."

  Mwynwen shuddered and her hand tightened on his. Then a long sigh lifted Mwynwen's breast; slowly her slumped shoulders rose. In a moment more, she looked up into Oberon's face, smiling now.

  He let go of her hand and patted her cheek. "It is gone now. Take up your work again, Healer."

  "Thank you, my lord." Mwynwen lifted his hand and kissed it. "Yes, my lord."

  And she came down from the dais with a light step, smiled at them all, and sat easily.

  "Pasgen and Rhoslyn Silverhair." They both stood and clasped hands nervously. "I knew your father, Kefni. He was one of my knights. I grieved for his death. If you wish to join the Bright Court, you are welcome." He swept the right-hand seats with a hard glance that quelled a murmur of protest. Suddenly he grinned, looking young and full of mischief for a moment. "Your elvensteeds are . . . a refreshment."

  Then he was serious again and said, "Harry FitzRoy . . ."

  Harry jumped to his feet and bowed jerkily. "My lord? I am certainly at fault for not attending more closely to the Evil." He sighed. "If there is some way for me to atone for that, I will do it gladly. It was surely my responsibility to see that thing did no harm. And I failed. It did do harm. Lord Pasgen told me."

  Oberon nodded soberly. "In the future, you must be more careful. But I think I have a fitting punishment in mind for you." Harry braced his shoulders and Elizabeth jumped to her feet, Denoriel's grab at her missing. Then quite suddenly with never a glance at her, the High King grinned again. "Yes, most fitting. You are to go and take the elder Sidhe you have so thoroughly wakened to new mischief and clean out El Dorado . . . and be quick about it. There will be tenants for the place soon."

  Relieved of any fear for her Da, Elizabeth was about to sink quietly into her seat when her eye was caught by movement in the chairs to the left of the dais. The golden-haired woman shifted sharply and leaned over to hiss into Vidal Dhu's ear.

  Meanwhile Oberon had continued speaking to Harry, "You will find that Alhambra is now occupied. Go and visit the domain with the elder Sidhe if you are so minded, but those who live there now are a strange people." His glance flashed toward Vidal Dhu and his companion, returned to Harry. "Be careful."

  Suddenly he was staring at Elizabeth a mixture of amusement and exasperation on his face. "You will very soon have your own kingdom to rule. I would appreciate it if you left mine to me."

  Elizabeth blushed. "Forgive me, my lord. I . . . I only wish to defend those dear to me, sometimes unwisely and when it is not necessary, but my heart bids me—"

  "You must become more discriminating," Titania said, her clear voice holding a note of severity. "A queen must not think first who is dear to her but what is best for all."

  "That is true my very dear," Oberon remarked, chuckling. "Now if only you would follow your own wise rule . . ."

  Titania laughed again and put a hand on Oberon's shoulder. "You would not be where you are," she finished sharply.

  Oberon sighed but made no attempt to wrest the last word from Titania. He looked at Elizabeth. "In ten days your sister will be dead and you will be queen of Logres."

  Elizabeth caught her breath. Sick as she often was, Mary had already lingered over a year. Since the summer she had been given up for dead three times . . . and yet lived. Elizabeth had not been sure whether she would have to wait another year or even longer while her sister's misgovernment continued to damage England.

  "Ten days," Elizabeth breathed.

  "No!"

  A chair crashed to the floor. A blue bolt, spreading as it moved, sparkling and crackling and leaving dead black motes in the air where it caught some happily dancing air spirits, roared away from where Vidal Dhu had been sitting. A shining white wall met it. Thunder crashed. Wind howled. Elizabeth would have been knocked from her feet had not Denoriel and Aleneil both leapt up, Denoriel in front of her, shields up, blue light limning his fingers, Aleneil to steady and support her.

  A Gate had already started to form just behind Vidal. It winked out.

  "That is enough!" Oberon roared. "I am king here, not you."

  Vidal, shields useless against Oberon's power, was frozen where he stood, one hand still raised, his face twisted with hate and rage. Aurilia shrank away from him as far as her seat would permit, her hands over her face.

  "Elizabeth will be queen of Logres and will reign long and successfully. Not you, Vidal Dhu, nor you Aurilia, nor any minion of yours will attack her. That is my will and I will enforce it."

  The occupants of the whole of the right-hand set of chairs rose to their feet. "Elizabeth and a happy Logres," a clear voice called and a roar of cheers agreed. Swords began to be drawn, energy crackled. The Sidhe in the left-hand seats began to rise.

  "Sit!" Oberon bellowed. "I will have no battle at a Great Court." He lowered his voice to its normal penetrating volume. "I am king of all—Bright Court and Dark. I have no desire to see the Dark Court diminished to nothing while the Bright Court thrives. I have arranged for a source of power to be fed to the Dark Court. You will not be quite as rich during Elizabeth's reign as you have been during Mary's, but there will be power enough to make your dark creatures, to build domains, and to—" his lips quirked "—to fight each other."

  At that point he released Vidal Dhu, who sank into the chair that had righted itself. Vidal was still glaring across the chamber at Elizabeth, and he was trembling violently. Elizabeth wondered whether it was with fear or rage.

  "We must be able to defend ourselves against the mortal world," Vidal cried.

  "That is not unreasonable," Oberon said. "Elizabeth?"

  "And the mortal world must be able to defend itself against you," Elizabeth snapped back, staring boldly at Vidal. "I will not exhort my people to make sacrifice to you, nor to let your creatures run amok, killing herds of cattle and sheep, nor fail to carry Cold Iron to fend off your Wild Hunt."

  "To that I agree," Oberon said, "but what of your Church? It was the Church that corrupted Alhambra and El Dorado."

  Elizabeth was silent, staring angrily at Vidal but then she glanced at her Denno, still on guard to protect her, and at Alana, less aggressive but always supportive. The Church—Catholic or Protestant—would burn Denno or Aleneil for being Other, not caring what good they had done. Slowly, her eyes which had been dark and troubled lightened. As a solution came to her that would satisfy Oberon and incidentally be of the greatest benefit to her—Elizabeth did not fancy a powerful Church with tentacles deep into her Council—her eyes glowed gold.

  "I may not always be able to control the princes of the Church, but I will try—that I promise. However, what I will swear to you, by my God and by your Great Mother, is that I will never have any powerful churchman as one of my high government officials. I will have no bishops for chancellor or comptroller or on my Privy Council or my great Council." And thinking of Cardinal Pole, she added, "I will have no religious fanatics for advisors no matter how saintly."

  "Done!" Oberon roared. "Done, my lady."

  "Done, sweet Elizabeth," Titania echoed. "And be sure that Underhill will always be open for you and—" she cast a flashing glance at Oberon and laughed "
—your Denno and your Lady Alana will still protect you."

  Oberon uttered a kind of exasperated growl, but again allowed Titania to have the last word. He looked now at Vidal. "Vidal Dhu, I have promised that your Court will not be straightened for power. But you must pay for that flow of power. The Bright Court must flourish also."

  Vidal made no reply. His face was flushed, his nostrils pinched with temper, but an uninterrupted flow of power was not something he would throw away. There would be ways of adding to what he received, he was sure.

  Smiling broadly and showing, to Elizabeth's faint distress, teeth as sharp as Vidal's and a good deal longer and stronger, Oberon named his price. "Queen Elizabeth—and Lady Elizabeth until she becomes queen—is sacrosanct. The moment she dies, or is in danger of death from whatever cause, be you innocent or guilty, all power to the Dark Court will be choked off until she is in good health and safe again." His voice rose to a bellow again. "Hear me! Elizabeth's person is sacred to me."

  "And to me also," Titania echoed. "And I will do a great deal worse to you than cut off your power if Elizabeth's rule does not fulfill completely the promise our FarSeers have Visioned."