Gatefather (31 page)

Nor did her new pret-sense help much. She could tell whether a pret was in one world or the other, so she had known immediately when Hermia brought that North matron to Westil. But it had taken her several hours of moving from one place to another until she finally found them on the streets of Ny, stealing from shopkeepers in order to dress themselves as fine women. She had thought of talking with them, but decided it was better if they thought that nobody knew they were there. She also thought of telling Wad, but she was tired. Being pregnant took the strength out of her when she stood and walked and simply stayed awake too long. She had devoted hours to finding them, and because of that she could tell Wad to look in Ny to find out what, if anything, they were planning. More than that was beyond her power.

I have so much power, and yet so many things remain beyond me. The power of the gods is much overrated. We are still so limited in what we can do. Except Danny North.
He
seemed to be able to do whatever he thought of.

Someone was coming along the corridor toward her. This was not a good moment to be discovered. So she moved down the corridor—jump, jump, jump—making not a sound, staying out of sight. Until she found an open door and stepped inside.

The people who passed the room she was in were talking, but about nothing important. They said nothing to tell her where Frostinch might be.

Well, she knew how to find his bedchamber and, for that matter, his toilet. If she could not stealthily locate him, she could wait for him to come to her.

Or burn the castle down.

No, no. That isn't my purpose here.

Besides, stone does not burn.

But the ceilings are of wood, and all the hangings and the carpets are of cloth.

And perhaps when a Lightrider of Bexoi's power ignites a fire, stone may heat and crack and crumble. A castle might come down, if the fire is hot enough.

She could imagine Wad saying, “What a subtle way to announce your power. So many dead, who did nothing but serve their jarl.”

She could imagine Danny looking at her coldly and then going away. Despite the fact that she had known Wad so long and loved him so much, it was Danny's disapproval that made her tremble.

Why? What would Danny do to her? There was nothing he
could
do, especially if he continued to refuse to come to Westil because of the creature he carried inside him.

Yet even as she told herself that Danny was powerless, she found herself obeying an order he was not even here to give. There would be no flames in Graywald tonight. No common folk would die. It was Bexoi who killed to get her way—who killed even when she did not need to. Anonoei had come here to prevent a war that she had once set in motion in order to defeat Bexoi. Now she
was
Bexoi and needed to stop her own plots. She was a manmage, enhanced by a Great Gate, and now with the added power of moving as swiftly and invisibly as a gatemage herself. Manmage, firemage, gatemage, all in one, all in
me
; surely I can win Frostinch's obedience without killing anyone.

He came to his bedchamber alone—of course, for Frostinch's lack of interest in women was a prime target for speculation within the jarldom of Gray. He did not see Bexoi until the door was closed and half his clothing was off.

“Are you an assassin?” he asked, looking at her in the shadows where she stood. He looked more closely. “Pregnant. An odd choice for such a mission.”

“I'm not here to kill you,” said Anonoei. As she spoke, she kindled the part of her outself that she had left within him, making him feel relief, the beginnings of trust. He could believe this woman, he could feel that.

“Then you won't mind if I go to my privy,” he said. “I had to flee the dining room to vacate my bowel without offending the company.”

“Don't fall in,” she said merrily. “Our conversation will profit us both.”

This close to him, she could sense all that he was feeling, everything that he desired. It was true that his bowels were causing him considerable distress. It was also true that he did not feel safe going into his privy. She well remembered how she had first accosted him there.

Why did I come myself? she wondered. Bexoi had the power to raise a clant so real that it could bleed. I haven't even tried. To send a clant on this mission …

But then she would not have been so close, so easily able to understand him, to influence him. So she waited patiently, wondering if it would weaken her influence over him if she sat on his bed. It was so
wearing
to stand, and her back hurt.

She stood. She bore the pain. She listened to Frostinch's noisy evacuation and was glad she wasn't sharing the room with him.

Then she saw that Wad was standing beside her. “I thought you'd want to know,” he whispered, “that Hermia and Danny's mother showed off a bit in Ny. They're trying to provoke a maritime war between Nix and Ny.”

“Birds of a feather, fight together?” asked Anonoei.

“Are you referring to Nix and Ny, or to Hermia and Gerd?” asked Wad.

“Is that Danny's mother's name? How unfortunate.”

“How are things going here?”

“I waited for him to come to his bedchamber, so we could have a private interview. But now I can sense that he is fully … relieved.”

“Allow me to witness your conversation,” suggested Wad.

“You don't trust me,” said Anonoei.

“This is Bexoi's body, and she was a creature of astonishing rage and cruelty,” said Wad. “Are you sure you have these passions under control?”

“I'm a manmage, you miserable witling kitchen boy. Go away, please.”

“I can't watch the master of manipulation at work?”

“Go.”

“Afraid I'll recognize the techniques you use on me?”

“Nothing that works on Frostinch would work with you. He's coming, so go.”

The privy door opened; Anonoei didn't have to look to see that he was gone. Whatever else Wad might be—and he did have the trickster streak—he would not deliberately subvert what she was trying to do here.

“So who are you?” asked Frostinch. “Since your intentions are so benign.”

“Don't you remember me, my darling boy?” said Anonoei.

Frostinch took a candle from a sconce on the wall. “Cheeks fatter, but that's the pregnancy. I do believe you're my Aunt Bexoi, Queen of Iceway. Astonishing that you could have come here without any ceremony. Or invitation.”

“So much diplomacy and back-and-forth, if I were to come with fanfare,” said Anonoei. “We have so much that we can work out between us.”

“I believe,” said Frostinch stiffly, “that any problems are between Prayard and me.”

“History is the huge chain we drag behind us. A thousand years ago, Iceway conquers Gray, seizes half our coastline, moves their ancient capital of Kamesham to an inlet of the sea in what was once our land, and then becomes a mightier seafaring nation than Gray ever was.”

“Don't forget that they forced the King of Gray to accept his reduction to the rank of jarl.”

“A title that your ancestors have changed into a synonym for king.”

“Not all of history works against us.”

“Ancient hatreds. So your father fed on that ancient hatred and defeated Iceway in turn. Not so decisively that those ancient wrongs could be reduced—especially since the people of what used to be
our
lands are now so committed to being Icewegian.”

“I was once told,” said Frostinch, “that you were plotting to kill Prayard as soon as your son is born, rule in his name, and conquer Gray again.”

“Do you believe everything you're told?”

“I was told that you're a great firemage.”

“So many rumors about a poor Feathergirl.”

“Why are you here?”

“I'm your father's sister,” said Anonoei. “I grew up in Gray. I don't want a single man of Gray to die, nor a Grayish wife to become a widow. And now I'm queen of Iceway, too—and I want no dying in that land, either.”

“So you're here to make peace. Why should I believe you?”

Because I'm filling you with trust and contentment.

Except for the tiny problem that she could only work with desires that were already present. And in all of Frostinch's soul, she could find no yearning for peace. What an odd thing.

“I know that you care nothing for peace,” said Anonoei.

“Peace is just another word for ‘biding my time,'” said Frostinch. “But give me an inducement, and I'll bide my time.”

“Let me help you with the definition of ‘biding your time,'” said Anonoei. “I'd like it to mean, ‘as long as you live.'”

“Why not? As long as I live, peace. There. Agreed.”

Anonoei shook her head. “After all your labors in that little room,
still
you're full of shit.”

Frostinch shrugged. “I'm eager to please you, because I assume you have a gatemage helping you. How else could you have gotten into this castle undetected?”

Anonoei moved directly behind him before she spoke. “Why do you think I need some mage's help?”

He was halfway turned around when she moved to the side that he had been facing.

“The woman who came to you before, I know every word she spoke to you. She was a manmage, you know. She took away your own volition. I know you would never have murdered my brother otherwise.”

He stumbled as he tried to turn back around to face her. “I don't know what you're—”

“She came to you in your privy. She convinced you that I was a monster. But she finally overreached herself. I caught her once without her gatemage friend and I'm afraid my temper got the better of me. She tried to control me the way she controlled you, but I'm made of stronger stuff. While she turned out to be … flammable.”

Anonoei, having learned to control Bexoi's magery quite precisely, began to heat Frostinch's body. Just a little fever. He began to sweat.

“Feeling warm?” she asked. “Is it uncomfortable? Are you coming down with something?”

She allowed him to cool off, drawing the heat away quickly.

He shivered.

“And now … is that the ague? Why are you shaking? Not fear of your own aunt, is it?”

It was easy to make all the candles in the sconces flare up brightly, and then go out. She felt his fear, and knew just how to push him, and in what direction.

She could hear him moving in the dark. Heard a draw of metal.

She made the candles light again just as he plunged a dagger into her pregnant belly. Into the baby.

She jumped at once, and both her body and the baby's were healed completely, in the instant. “Frostinch,” she said. “Did you think it would be that easy?”

He held the dagger in front of himself, pointing at her. “You aren't even bleeding. I know that it went in.”

“Went in what?” she asked.

“There, where the cloth is torn. Into your belly.”

“Frostinch, let me explain this to you. The manmage who came to you before could not control me. You can't kill me. Any ship you send against Iceway will burn to the waterline. Send an army overland, and every icy peak will release its snow at once. Those who don't die in the avalanches will die in the floods. You're really quite helpless here.”

She filled him with fear and despair.

“Unnecessary for us to fight each other. I want you to keep your jarldom—after all, you traded your father for it, you should get
something
out of the bargain.”

“How can I believe you speak for King Prayard? You're only a woman, he's the king.”

“
Now
you're thinking like the clever boy you used to be. If I'm going to save your life and your jarldom, we need to convince my husband that you can be trusted.”

“I
can
be trusted,” said Frostinch. And at this moment, terrified at the power she had over his body, he meant it.

“I don't think that your holding a dagger toward me, claiming that you stabbed me in my womb, will help Prayard to trust you more.”

Frostinch tossed the dagger onto the bed.

“So here you are,” said Anonoei. “Wearing only a tunic, completely weaponless. That's a start. But of course, here in Graywald, my husband can't see how harmless you are. I think we must go to Kamesham.”

“No,” said Frostinch. “My life wouldn't be worth a rusty nail there.”

“You have a point,” said Anonoei. “But by a happy coincidence, I do believe that my waters are about to break. In fact, I think my baby is going to start coming right now.”

Anonoei sat on the bed, lay back, and then raised her knees up high and began to groan. “Oh, nephew Frostinch, I think you need to be found helping me give birth.”

“I don't know how to—”

“Just stand there at the foot of the bed, between my legs, exactly, that's very good. Now grip my legs just below the knee, both of them. Just like that. And when King Prayard finds you, let
me
do the talking.”

“But you can't—”

“Hold my legs, my darling nephew, and stop blathering.”

He obeyed, and in that moment she jumped to her own bed. To her relief, Frostinch came with her. She didn't know if it was because he was gripping her legs, or because she tried to include him in the penumbra of her own pret and all its servants. Perhaps it required both touch and intention.

Two of her women were in her room when she appeared on the bed. She immediately moaned as if she were in labor. She remembered it well, and pushed.

The women shrieked. “Who is that!” cried one. “Is the baby coming?” asked the other.

“Bring the midwife!” cried Anonoei. “And the king!”

Both women rushed from the room.

“Are you really giving birth?” asked Frostinch softly.

“Of course I am,” said Anonoei. She was not, but she knew that Wad was watching her and would help bring out the baby. He had already told her that the child was turned inside her, ready to be born. She had already had slight pains. When the baby came out, Wad would make sure the boy was healthy.