Melodie, safe in JarDan’s powerful arms, felt no pity for Tiana when Zeth ordered her taken to her room and kept under guard. The stricken look on King Zeth’s pale face broke her heart.
“Do not waste your energies on the child’s jealous accusations, King JarDan.” Raiwan instructed. “You have a grave quest before you.”
“Enough of your riddles, old man.” JarDan turned his anger and frustration on the oracle. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble tonight with your carnival tricks? My joy at learning of the child Melodie carries is dimmed by the heartbreak my father just suffered from Tiana’s ranting.”
With a sad shake of his head, Raiwan confronted his former student. “It is as it must be, JarDan.”
“Then finish your tale,” JarDan sighed in resignation, “and let us finish this … unsettling evening.”
Raiwan closed his fist and the image of the infant disappeared. Still pointing the golden light at Melodie, the ancient wizard fixed his dark gaze on JarDan and began his tale.
“First, I must tell you of an ancient legend. This legend tells of a warrior queen who will appear at the time of great peril to the land. It is said this warrior queen will hold the power of life for Falcon Tor.”
Raiwan turned his intense gaze on Melodie. “Beware, JarDan, King of Tor, for that time of peril is here.”
“Me? A Warrior Queen?” Melodie asked in astonishment. “You can’t mean me. Tell him, JarDan.” She looked up at her husband’s stony face. “I can’t even watch you and your men practice without getting sick to my stomach.” Melodie turned back to the strange old man, her voice strong with conviction. “I’m strictly nonviolent. There is no way I can be that warrior queen.”
“When the time of need is greatest, my queen,” Raiwan promised with a warm smile, “you will do what must be done. In the meantime, the golden light will protect the infant you carry from the dark powers that, even now, are gathering force around you.
“JarDan, my young friend.” Raiwan continued, suddenly looking older than his many years, his body no longer held straight. “Only you can prevent the coming confrontation but it will not be an easy task.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my family, Raiwan. Tell me.”
“All I can tell you is that you must find what has been lost for countless generations. Remember. Knowledge is power.”
“More riddles.” JarDan’s bark of mirthless laughter turned to desperation. “You’re asking me to gamble the lives of my family on riddles. Speak plainly.”
“I cannot.” Raiwan whispered. “To say more would give warning to those who plot your destruction …”
Whatever warning the Oracle intended to give never happened. A pair of giant hands, ghostly and opaque, materialized in the air and closed around Raiwan’s stooped body.
Shock held JarDan motionless until his old teacher gasped, fighting for air. By the Prophets! Those spectral hands are crushing the life from him!
“You are too late with your warning, old man,” A voice declared. “Soon, I will destroy the House of Tor and there is nothing you can do to prevent it.”
JarDan stiffened as a face appeared, floating above the transparent hands.
“Morandoni!” JarDan yelled shoving Melodie into Dak’s arms and leaping toward Raiwan’s convulsing body.
Harsh, maniacal laughter filled the silence of the hall as the hands disappeared, letting the broken body of the ancient oracle fall into JarDan’s arms. His warriors leapt to the defense of their king with swords drawn, forming a barrier between the guests and the royal family.
“You are a fool, Tor JarDan, just like your father. Already my Minions of the Dark are at work in the House of Tor. Torak almost succeeded in destroying your beautiful bride. He failed only because of your lust. What he began I will finish -- and before she can deliver the girl child.”
With a final burst of crazed laughter, the image faded, leaving a heavy silence in the great hall. Denied the chance of doing battle, JarDan could only stand with Jace’s sword clenched in his fist, his body quivering and no enemy to vanquish.
“JarDan …” Raiwan’s faint rasp drew his attention from Morandoni.
“Quickly!” JarDan called to anyone in range of his voice. “Notify the MediCenter.”
“No … too late,” wheezed Raiwan. “Chest crushed … dying … must tell …”
“Don’t try to talk, old friend. Save your strength.” Zeth straightened Raiwan’s broken body, trying to make him as comfortable as possible until the MediCenter technicians arrived.
JarDan welcomed his father’s presence. His teacher and his father were lifelong friends.
With a feeble flutter of icy fingers, Raiwan motioned JarDan closer until his ear hovered above the older man’s mouth.
“Must remember …”
JarDan strained to hear the last words Raiwan fought death to impart. When the wizard shuddered one final time, JarDan knew he was dead.
“Morandoni will pay for this, Raiwan.” He whispered while closing the sightless eyes of the ancient oracle. Raiwan was like a member of the family. For as long as JarDan could remember, he turned to Raiwan as often as he did Zeth. First as a teacher, later as a friend and confident, the Oracle helped shape the man who was now king.
“Come, my son.” Zeth touched JarDan’s shoulder. “We can do no more for him. Let the medical team prepare his body for burial. You have a roomful of frightened guests to soothe and a queen who needs rest.”
JarDan stood and searched out his mate. Dak still protected her as he knew he would. Only now, his brother cradled Melodie against his chest. He knew by her shaking shoulders that she was crying.
“Go to her, JarDan.” Zeth urged softly. “I will see to our guests.”
“My friends,” Zeth addressed the anxious crowd when JarDan turned toward Dak and Melodie. “I’m sure you will understand that my family seeks solitude at this time. Guards will be provided to guarantee your safe departure from Falcon Tor.”
A tall, elegant man with dark, slanted eyes followed Zeth back to the family table and bowed deeply before JarDan. “I cannot speak for the rest, King JarDan, but my entourage will leave immediately for Aisalin Isle. My Empress and I stand ready to help you in any way we can. I would ask that our physicians share in the analysis of the female infant situation. This occurrence could greatly affect all of us, as you well know.”
JarDan nodded at Emperor Vos and his wife, his arm still holding Melodie to his side. “Have your physicians contact Doctor Sladal. My queen and I thank you for coming so far on such short notice. Perhaps we can continue this celebration in true Anderan fashion when this business is behind us.”
“Most assuredly, your majesty. We look forward to that time.” The Emperor signaled for his guards and ordered the gathering of his people and their luggage for immediate departure. The remaining guests followed his lead and said their goodbyes.
“Will you arrange for Raiwan’s burial, Dak?” JarDan asked when the last guest had left the hall. “The medical team should be through with him by morning.”
“Of course, JarDan.” Dak agreed his voice husky with emotion. “I don’t know what good guards will do against something like … that,” Dak waved his hand toward where Morandoni’s image once floated, “but I’ll post extra men at each of our doors.”
JarDan turned to his father as Dak left. “Is there anything we can do? I know how much you cared for Raiwan … and Tiana.” Zeth suddenly looked old to JarDan. Old and tired and heart sick and there wasn’t anything he could do to ease the man’s torment. He would grieve for the ancient wizard in his own way. With Tiana … as with all parents, his father would deal with her as best he could and hope he did what was right for all of them. JarDan had no doubt his own children would cause their individual moments of grief and worry. Recalling the tiny infant from Raiwan’s magic, JarDan pulled Melodie closer to his side, wanting to protect her from the danger of Morandoni’s threats. Raiwan was wrong. Melodie wasn’t a p
art of this battle. As her husband it was his responsibility to protect her and keep her safe -- not her’s to protect an entire kingdom.
“Come, my love,” he whispered against the top of her head, breathing the delicate scent of wildflowers from the fairy wreath she still wore, “you need rest. We can do no more tonight. Tomorrow we’ll decide what must be done.”
PART THREE
Chapter Twenty-One
Melodie heaved her swollen body up from the bed, ignoring the grumbling of Sibell and Dyana.
“Doctor Sladal,” she explained with exaggerated patience, “for months you’ve poked and examined and tested and generally make my life miserable trying to find out why I’m going to have a baby girl. Unless you’ve discovered something new in the last two days, you’re no closer to an answer than you were last summer. Am I correct?” She didn’t wait for his answer before moving to the door to her room.
Standing in the open door, she straightened to her full five feet eleven inches. “I’ve had enough. There will be no more blood drawn; no more long hours in an examination tube; and no more of your endless questions. If you need to examine me as you would any other woman who is in her ninth month of pregnancy, then I’ll see you at the MediCenter. Look for your answers in the gallons of blood you drained from me already or ask JarDan. Good day, Doctor.”
“We’ll discuss this issue when you’re not so overwrought, my Queen.” Sladal bowed and quickly slipped from the room just seconds before Melodie slammed the door on his retreating form.
“I’ll show him overwrought.” Melodie grumbled, rubbing her aching back.
“You shouldn’t let him upset you,” soothed Dyana. “If they can discover how you conceived a female it could mean the end of the plague.”
“But JarDan still tests positive for the virus and, even here, the man determines the sex of the baby.”
“This is why Doctor Sladal continues to examine you. Now, come back and lie down. If you don’t put your feet up, your shoes won’t fit over the swelling.”
Melodie smiled at the amused expression on her friend’s face. The friendship between Melodie, Dyana and Sibell, forged in the dust and grime of a potato field, grew stronger every day. Dyana, quiet and practical, always knew when Melodie needed to escape the pressures of being queen or when she just wanted to talk. Sibell, with her ready wit and wicked sense of humor, never failed to make her laugh. Melodie felt very lucky that the first close friends in her entire life were these two very special women. She refused to think about what the past few months would have been like without their support.
“Just what I need, skinny feet that I haven’t even seen in months.” Melodie allowed the other women to help her back to her bed. Lately, the bed was the only comfortable place she found for her swollen body. She just wished she wasn’t alone in it so often.
“Has anyone heard from the patrol?” Melodie asked, pulling a light blanket over her gown. Although the energy stone kept the room at a comfortable temperature whatever the season, she always felt chilled without JarDan next to her. She didn’t miss the quick look exchanged between Dyana and ArDell before they gathered the delicate garments they were embroidering for her daughter.
“What?” Melodie demanded. “Has something happened?”
“No.” ArDell hurried back to the bed where Melodie struggled to get up. “Stay in bed. You need to rest.”
“Are you giving your attendants a hard time, love?” JarDan’s chuckle filled the room as he closed the distance between himself and the bed.
“JarDan!” Melodie exclaimed, trying again to get off the bed. “When did you get home? Did you find …?”
He silenced her with a gentle kiss. “I’ll answer all your questions if you’ll promise to stay in bed.”
When she nodded in agreement and settled back with her feet perched on a mountain of pillows, JarDan turned his attention to the other women in the room.
“Lady Dyana, I believe Kord is waiting for you in the main hall.”
He acknowledged her curtsey then escorted her and Sibell to the door. “You’re free for the evening, ArDell.” He told Melodie’s maid. “The queen and I are having dinner in our rooms tonight and I’ll see to her needs.”
When they were alone, he found himself at a loss for words. For the past five months, his every thought and action centered on Melodie and the threat to her life and the life of their daughter. His first action as king was to abolish the law requiring him to remain in the castle compound. He would not stand idle while other men risked their lives. Morandoni threatened his family. Zeth, Melodie and the baby she carried were his responsibility. He would be the man responsible for the destruction of the Minions of the Dark.
The tightly coiled knot of worry in his chest, his constant companion since Raiwan’s brutal murder the night of his coronation, loosened when he thought of the baby. A daughter. A tiny embodiment of his love for his wife. A true miracle baby. Picking up the delicate garments left by Melodie’s Ladies-in-Waiting, JarDan traced the band of embroidered ribbons and flowers. Every person on the planet eagerly awaited the arrival of his daughter and the hope for a normal future her birth engendered.
Everyone except Morandoni. JarDan knew he had less than a month to find the evil wizard. Oracles must live deep within caves to protect their powers from the disruptive influences of science and technology. Months of searching every cave, grotto and cavern in the kingdom produced nothing but frustration and fatigue. By the Beard of the Prophet, he was bone weary,
“You’re shutting me out, again.” Melodie whispered from the bed.
He turned with a tired smile, returning a tiny gown to the growing pile in the basket on the floor. “It wasn’t intentional, my love.” He squatted beside the bed before taking her hand in his own. “My thoughts seem to run in endless circles these days.”
“You’ve been gone almost two weeks this time.” Melodie rolled to her side and stroked his face with her free hand. “And last time was over a month and before …”
JarDan placed a fingertip against her trembling lips. “We have to find Morandoni.” He whispered, stroking the fullness of her mouth. “Already the snow blocks many of the mountain passes. It’s only a matter of days, maybe a couple of weeks, before all travel beyond the hamlet will be impossible until the spring thaw.”
Shifting his hand to the mound of her stomach, he felt the strong movements of the child held safe and secure within her body. “Morandoni has promised to kill you before the baby is born.” He swallowed hard past the pain that gripped his heart whenever he remembered Morandoni’s threats against his family. He was running out of time. Melodie was due in three weeks. “I will not allow that to happen.” He vowed fervently. “I give you my word.”
Melodie pulled him into her arms, freely giving her love. “I never doubted it for a minute.” She whispered against his neck. “You’ve protected me since we first met, remember?”
He thought back to the tornado so many months past when fate took a hand and altered his life forever. The courage to face that storm still lived within her, sustained by her unshakable faith in her God and in him. The fear of breaking that trust was his constant nightmare.
“You’re a remarkable woman, Melodie Smith.” JarDan grinned, ignoring the burning sensation behind his eye lids.
“I’ll have you know, my name is not plain, old Melodie Smith.” She retorted with exaggerated haughtiness. “I, sir, am Queen of Falcon Tor.”
JarDan’s laughter filled the room, banishing the specter of danger, at least temporarily. “My humble pardon, Your Majesty.” He stood and executed an elegant bow. “For a moment you reminded me of someone who used to run barefoot through my rose garden.”
Melodie’s answering laughter helped ease the worries that plagued him. “I’m still barefoot most of the time because I can’t get shoes on.”
“Is there cause for concern?” His teasing quickly gave way to concern.
“I’m fine, JarDan.” Melodie insisted.
“The baby’s fine. All God’s children are fine. This is normal and as long as I spend two hours every afternoon with my feet up, I can wear shoes to dinner. Will you help me up, please?”
“Are you sure you should be out of bed? Sladal said you needed …”
“JarDan …”
The King of Tor had no problem understanding the warning in his wife’s tone of voice. Sliding one arm beneath her shoulders and the other beneath her knees, he lifted her against his chest before crossing to the fireplace and the two massive chairs placed nearby. He sat in one of the chairs, keeping Melodie snuggled securely in his lap.
“You shouldn’t carry me,” she preached, “I’m too heavy.”
He pushed her head back down to his shoulder. “Don’t start.”
JarDan relished the feel of her in his arms. The long months spent away from her had cheated them of precious time together. He missed making love to her. Missed holding her in the dark hours of the night. Missed watching her body change with the growth of his child. Morandoni had much to answer for when JarDan found him. And he would find him.
“Uh … JarDan?” Melodie mumbled against his chest.
“Mmmmm.” He answered, nuzzling the softness of her hair with his cheek.
“When was the last time you … uh … had a bath?”
He chuckled. He just spent days on the move with nothing more than icy spring water for cleanliness. His original plan to bathe and change clothes before coming to her got lost in his need to see her.
“Are you saying I smell, love?” He asked innocently.
Melodie pushed herself to a sitting position across JarDan’s lap.
“Sweetheart,” she began in a patient voice, “you’re as tall as a basketball player, and built like a linebacker. You have the face of a Greek god and sex appeal to die for.”
“But?” JarDan encouraged with a grin, watching her face turn pink. She had such a gentle heart.
“But,” she closed her eyes, “you smell like your horse.” She finished in a whispered rush.
Fighting the urge to laugh, he forced his expression into one of shock. “Melodie, my love,” he tried hard to sound upset, “unicorns don’t smell.”
The Men of Anderas I: Jardan, the King Page 22
