Crystal Warrior: Through All Eternity (Atlantean Crystal Saga Book 1) (44 page)

‘Yes,’ Gynevra said, gazing back at him through the silver mirror. There was a part of her that still couldn't quite believe the smile was still in his eyes when he looked at her. ‘But I wouldn't risk trying to handle that kind of energy while I'm pregnant.’

‘Of course not,’ he said, turning away to pick up a polished ebony bull from a side table and abstractedly caress the satiny finish of its hide. ‘But you could teach it to me and three others?’

‘Four others. Ta’a, I could.’

‘Good. We'll get to that tomorrow,’ he said decisively.

‘I still don’t understand my pavuon’s thinking in sending his ships here. Wouldn’t he do better to employ them in relocating his whole city to safer land?’

‘Ta’a, he would. But he stated back at the Vambon that he'll never abandon the citadel. It's the womb of our nation. I understand how he feels. I couldn’t abandon Nyalda either—as long as she is rock beneath my feet. Nyalda is my birth canal, my umbilical cord, my heart. She's the blood that flows in my veins and the air that fills my lungs. Nyalda is me and I am Nyalda.’

Gynevra stared into the deep chatoyant green of his eyes and knew he'd just gifted her the essence of what he was. There was a deep longing in her to answer with the pledge that where Nyalda's King reigned so would her Queen, but that pledge she had no right to give.

Chapter 25

Morning brought an urgent message from Archinus Varia requesting the Queen’s attendance at the healing clinic. Foab, the young Qeggi gardener, was like to die. When Gynevra arrived she found the priestesses tense and angry. Cielcif met her at the entrance to a side room where critical cases were placed. Her face was white and set, her eyes fiery black.

‘If he dies, Lady—’ she began, then halted, unable to find further words to express her emotions. ‘Come, please.’

Gynevra entered the room behind Cielcif and the priestesses clustered around the healing couch uttered a collective sigh of relief and stepped back. There was so much blood, the young giant on the couch seemed to be covered with it—from his head to his feet.

‘What has happened?’ Gynevra murmured, scarce able to believe the mess before her. That the man had been castrated she could see rightly enough but—

‘Why is there so much blood around his face?’

‘Exactly, Great Lady!’ cried Cielcif, words at last finding their way through her fury. ‘Have you ever heard that castration meant cutting out the tongue as well as the taala? A man without a tongue cannot speak the truth. None can ever know the truth now for of course, being a Qeggi, he cannot write! Such perfidy should be punished! Lady, I intend to petition the King to look into this. It is wrong!’

Gynevra put a calming hand on Cielcif’s arm.

‘Cielie,’ she said through teeth grinding with anger, ‘there is no need. I will speak with the King myself. This must be investigated.—Now, there’s no time to waste. Please have my crystals brought from the store room.’

‘They’re here, Great Lady,’ said Archinus Varia, who was standing at the young man’s head, channeling sustaining energy into his body. ‘And you’re right. Time is against us.’

Faced with irrefutable proof of a miscarriage of justice, the King agreed to instigate an investigation, but warned Gynevra that preparation for war must take precedence.

‘I looked for you here to begin our training to program the Powerhouse. We’ve already wasted half a day,’ he chided.

‘Foab would have died without the power of the master-crystals.’

‘One Qeggi cannot be accounted more worthy than all our citizens,’ Taur pointed out firmly. ‘We must be prepared for the arrival of the enemy.’

Gynevra bit back the hot words of denial. She knew Taur was right but her fury at the injustice which had ruined a young man’s life would not abate. He was only a Qeggi but still a human being though she knew there were those among the Paggi who would argue different. Nevertheless, she must put it aside in order to teach the King, Dogon and three other priests how to program the Powerhouse for war. With four to balance the energy and one to program, it was a much less dangerous procedure nevertheless she would insist they revise the process several times before putting it into practice.

Next morning at the Temple Gynevra took advantage of the de-activation of the Energy Web to send a communication to Ianthe, informing her of her quickening, and Taur's refusal to let her leave Nyalda. Ianthe's response was almost instant, and while she was inclined to revile the Bull of Nyalda as an abductor and traitor, and her daughter for being where she was, Gynevra was gratified to feel for the first time that her own physical well-being was of some concern to her movuon.

However, having ascertained that Gynevra was only suffering mild bouts of morning sickness and was coping with the northern climate and more austere way of life, Ianthe quickly reverted to the old, autocratic Archinus.

‘It's imperative you continue your studies and working with the energies and rituals. One day you must be ready to follow me. And if your child is a girl she must come to Qrazil when she is two.’

Nothing had really changed. Forcing herself to remain calm, Gynevra responded,
‘My child will be a king for Nyalda—and I will always continue my studies.’

A lengthy stillness followed this terse response. Just when Gynevra decided Ianthe had broken the connection, another message came clearly.

‘Then you must try again for a daughter—to become Archinus after you.’

She, Gynevra
,
would never force
her
daughter to a path she had no desire to follow. Realizing the Archinus could easily read her thoughts, Gynevra quickly projected a request for news of Phryne, who was now sworn Archinus of Gadeirus. Phree had been in her mind several times of late and she'd begun to wonder if at last her sister might be ready to listen to her apology. Ianthe's response was so long in coming, Gynevra knew before the message was received in her mind, that Phryne was no more. A cry of denial rose within her but instantly she quelled it for intense emotion would break the link.

‘Tell me,’
she begged with a repressed shudder. Was there no end to the grief she must bear? Phryne, it seemed, had succumbed to the disease which killed many Gadeirans and which showed no signs of abating. Called ‘pirate's disease’, for it was thought to have come to Gadeirus with the pirate conquerors many years before, it dried up the victim's blood and they withered and died quite quickly.

As the link with Ianthe faded, Gynevra wrapped her arms about her stomach and allowed the tears to course down her cheeks. When the first wash of emotion had dried away, she returned to the Castle, made her excuses to the ladies in the Queen’s Court and spent the rest of the day playing with Qerlim in the royal apartments.

As day followed day in training and practice and a constant state of readiness, troops and citizenry alike became impatient and fractious. Yet still there was no sign of the Poseidonian ships.

‘Heceuda Harbor has her jaws set, so where are the arabo?’ Taur fumed after yet another ‘clear seas’ report from the lookout posted on the cliffs beyond the Council Chamber. ‘What breara game is Ahron playing?’

‘Bluff?’ Gynevra suggested, in an attempt to lighten his mood.

‘It would appear so,’ he conceded moodily, ‘but we shall remain on alert nevertheless.’

Two days later Gynevra was relaxing in the steaming golden bath. She'd spent the latter part of the afternoon at the House of Children helping the youngsters make animal figures from clay. It had been a rewarding few hours but she seemed to tire more easily now she was pregnant. The enervating steam and the fresh scent of lemon balm from the oil burner was the deepest luxury.

Taur was training with his warriors down on the military arena but he would be returning to their apartments soon. She planned to stay right where she was until he found her. A smile formed on her lips and she closed her eyes and let her head rest on the smooth golden ledge. He was gone before daylight to the Temple for Dawn Ritual and she'd barely seen him all day. Soon. He would be coming soon.

The smile had scarcely curved across her lips when he erupted into the bathing cavern, already naked and proclaiming, ‘We have news at last!’

Gynevra jerked upright and opened her eyes in time to see him step into the bath, his magnificent body glistening with sweat and steam.

‘What news?’ she asked, watching with amusement as he made vigorous swipes at his body with the bathing sponge.

‘Ahron's fleet left Poseidyr Harbor and sailed north yesterday.’

‘Only yesterday? Then we have at least five more days?’

‘Ta’a. The Gods know what took them so long!’

He dunked his head and surfaced with water and hair streaming over his face. Again he dived and came up with a flurry of splashing which usually elicited a protest from Gynevra. But today she was more concerned about the imminent arrival of her father's warships than the mess on the floor.

‘What are you planning to do now?’

Lunging to his feet, Taur gathered her into his arms. Water streamed from their bodies and Gynevra clung to him, laughing and protesting and trying to focus on the gravity of the threat that faced them.

‘I'm planning to kurn you, that's what I'm planning,’ he growled, lowering his head to her breast and suckling deeply.

Much later Gynevra thought it would've made no difference if the Poseidonian fleet had been sailing into Heceuda Harbor. She'd have lost all awareness of anything other than the flow of liquid energy from wherever he touched her to the point of ignition in her feminine core. With this man it would always be so and in some deep place in her soul she'd recognized it on that long ago day when they'd stood naked on opposite sides of the Sacred Pool in Fyr Poseidyr, a day she now thought of as the first of her womanhood.

Before they set out for the evening meal, which tonight would be attended only by the members of the council and their sacred partners, Taur led her out onto the balcony. The last notes of Evening Latreia faded on the air from sacred points around the city and a lazy curl of smoke from braziers in the city center and the docks drifted across the water. Though the nights were warmer, many of the braziers were lit and there were still vendors selling chestnuts, hog-crackle, fish cakes and meat patties to cook over the hot coals.

Taur held a cloak around Gynevra's shoulders with his arm and drew her attention to the peninsula jutting into the sea at the toe of Castle Crags. It was there he planned to erect the Star Path Pyramid. Then he pointed out the masts of a loaker from Khemu in the port and a string of donkey carts carrying goods from the ship to the warehouse on the wharf. Further along, the four Nyaldan warships were being readied for action. Men swarmed over hulls and decks, and up masts.

‘Every finger-width of those ships is being checked. Nothing will be left to chance. We’re poised ready for action the moment our enemy arrives.’

With a flash of knowing as strong as any she’d ever had, Gynevra said, ‘I don't actually have any presentiment of them arriving at all.’

‘You don't?’ Taur asked with a quirk of one eyebrow. Unlike Gotham, he’d quickly accepted the ‘knowing’ that came with her emerald vibration. ‘But they are on their way?’

‘Oh yes. No doubt at all they left Fyr Poseidyr as you were informed but I believe either they aren't making for Nyalda or something will happen to them before they get here.’

Taur shuddered.

‘That I can understand. Our trip home was the closest I've ever come to exploring the Caverns of Merea and I can almost feel sorry for them if that's what happens.—Cloaba! I have some good friends on those ships. I know they must follow orders but many of them are actually in command. I can't believe they'd sail against me!’

‘Perhaps that's it. Perhaps they just followed orders until they reached the open ocean. No one could stop them then if they elected to change course.’

‘Cloaba! Our warriors will be unhappy at being cheated of a fight. They are primed and ready to explode into action. If the Poseidonians don't show I will have to think of some constructive way of channeling all that energy.’

‘They could always help with the construction of the pyramid or some other project,’ Gynevra suggested.

Taur shook his head skeptically.

‘It is a destructive energy they are fired with, a fire to kill and fight. I think it could only be assuaged by a hunting competition or a festival of war games. But we must wait and hope they do arrive.’

Gyn'a sighed.

‘You're just as bad as your warriors. I'd just as soon the ships didn't arrive!’

Taur hugged her into his side and chuckled. Then slapping the heel of his palm against his forehead, he exclaimed, ‘I almost forgot the other thing I wanted to talk to you about! I've made some enquiries about the Qeggi affair and you were right. Judge Lomy appears to have been easily swayed by bribery to bring in any verdict a wealthy Paggi would pay him for. I promise you our people will know they can trust our judges in future. Lomy is a judge no more and Lord Reggo who needed the Qeggi silenced has already fled on a loaker heading for Khemu. I wish him a very uncomfortable trip.’

‘Thank you,’ Gynevra murmured. ‘It feels right that justice is served, but I really fear it is too late for the victim of their avarice. What can life hold for him now?’

‘Perhaps a Queen could think of something,’ Taur suggested.

‘Perhaps she could,’ Gynevra agreed.

One afternoon three days later as she sat on the balcony brushing Qerlim's molting winter coat, Taur stormed into the apartments. His face was ruddy from the wind and his hair a tangle on his shoulders. But what most startled Gynevra was the blazing fury in his eyes.

Halting the brush in mid-stroke along the wolf's back, she asked, ‘What's wrong?’

‘D'you know what those arabo have done?’ he demanded, throwing the horned helmet onto a chair as he strode out onto the balcony, his cloak flying behind him like a pennant. ‘By Cronos! If they were my men I'd hand the lot of them over to the priests! Infidel arabo! Traitorous arabo!’

Qerlim growled, bared her teeth, and snapped at his ankles as he stormed past. For once he neither noticed nor commented on the ingratitude of the animal. Gynevra gentled the cub with her hand and a murmured order to hush, then asked calmly, ‘Who are the arabo and what is their crime?’

Taur halted his savage pacing. Dropping onto the stone seat at her side he dragged his hands through his hair and turned a fulminous gaze on her.