Lady Warhawk (10 page)

Maybe we should both wait, until we're the right age?
her son finally
responded, after almost a minute of silence, while Athrar and Mrillis walked around the sod
house, illuminated by softly glowing blobs of light that hovered at their shoulders.
Wouldn't
that be fair to everyone?

I suppose.
She shifted her hand so their fingers intertwined.
But that would
mean Lok will start his Valor training ahead of you, and I don't want that.
That earned a
twitch of Lycen's shoulders, and a tiny snort she thought was laughter.
No, my dearest. Our
peaceful life is over. You are burdened with having the Queen of Snows for your mother. You
have destiny resting on your shoulders. It is time you started preparing for that destiny. You can't
be a simple inn boy, though I do wish you could have stayed that way for many more
years.

Are you afraid, Mother?
Lycen turned to face her, and the ring glowing on his
free hand strengthened its light, so his curiosity and awe were visible. He studied her face a long
moment, then raised his free arm to give her an awkward, one-sided hug.
Don't worry about
me.
He grinned.
I'll be too busy keeping my little brother out of trouble to get into any of
my own.

Meghianna muffled a sob and flung her arms tight around him. What she wouldn't have
given to have him small enough again to cuddle on her lap and wrap him with her cloak and keep
him safe from harm and nightmares. Just one more time.

It occurred to her that in deciding to keep the two boys together, for Athrar's good even
more than Lycen's, she would lose her son in several degrees. She was sending him out to be a
man at fifteen, a Valor, a part of the history books and the destiny of the World.

Athrar broke away from Mrillis and hurried over to Meghianna and Lycen. His face
gleamed with excitement and he beckoned. Lycen slid free of Meghianna and got up to go to his
brother's side. She wondered if he even noticed how natural it was for him to come when Athrar
called. Up until a moon ago, it had always been him leading his brother.

"Let's practice," Athrar said, and gestured at the racks of wooden practice swords,
shields, leather helmets, and heavy gloves. "I've done this dozens of times in my dreams. I
couldn't wait until I could do it for real."

Lycen darted ahead of his brother and took the first sword. He tested it for balance, as
Ector had taught the boys. Meghianna watched them, struck once again with how well they
worked together, sometimes without needing to speak.

Mrillis stepped to the doorway and tweaked the Threads to cast a haze over the doorway
and windows. Then the lanterns hanging from the ceiling lit one by one, allowing the boys light
to work by. Meghianna felt the slight change in pressure in the air, and knew all sound stayed
inside the building. Someone walking by, even pressing their ear to the wall of the sod house,
would hear nothing, have no clue that two young boys sweated and laughed and banged away at
each other with wooden swords.

That was how Efrin and Glyssani first saw their son, when they stepped through the
magical barrier and halted, blinking, flinching at the enthusiastic crack and thud of wooden
sword against leather shield. Meghianna sat still, bracing herself, and watched her father and
stepmother feast their eyes on the sight of the two boys, practicing with such concentration they
didn't realize their audience had grown. Mrillis stepped over to join them. Efrin smiled and
nodded at something he said. Meghianna waited until the clenching around her heart loosened
before she got up to walk around the perimeter of the room and join them.

Efrin's hair was completely white, and there were a few new scars among the wrinkles
and leathery tanned skin on his face and hands. Glyssani seemed a little smaller, and silver
streaked her golden hair. She clutched her hands together at her waist and bit her lip as she
watched the boys whack at each other. She turned from the mock battle first, and her smile when
she saw Meghianna eased the aching longing that had gathered around her heart.

"Meggi, dear. How are you?" Glyssani reached to hug Meghianna, but Efrin caught her
up in his arms first and lifted her off her feet.

Meghianna laughed, but the sound caught in her throat when Efrin didn't spin her
around, as he had always done since she could remember. He put her down almost immediately.
Her father was still a little taller than her, but she had felt the new thinness of his muscles, and
even his bones felt less substantial than they had been.

What do you expect?
she scolded herself silently.
When you speak in
dreams, you see him as he was, in his prime, when you were still a little girl and all was right
with the world.

"You've grown up, exactly as I told you not to," Efrin said, tears bright in his eyes. He
grasped her shoulders and kissed both her cheeks. Then made her sputter a moment later, when
he kissed the tip of her nose. "My darling girl ... it's like old times, you know." He tugged on a
strand of her dyed hair, which had slipped out from her kerchief. "Playing at disguises and
sneaking around."

"Papa, you are such a coward," Meghianna scolded, and muffled a giggle when her
father gaped at her. Glyssani chuckled and nodded, and knuckled some tears from her eyes.
Meghianna took her father by one shoulder and turned him to face the battling boys again. "The
shorter one, in the darker blue, is Athrar. Though I suppose he won't stay shorter much longer
now. Lycen went through a growth spurt last year and--" She choked on a threat of tears.

"We're being idiots, you know," Mrillis said. He held out his hand for hers, Threads
glimmering into visibility, wrapped around his fingers.

Meghianna nearly laughed aloud. She had forgotten about the spell wrapped around
Glyssani and Efrin, to protect them against revealing the secret of Athrar's existence, even by the
slightest misspoken word or careless expression. In some ways, this was the hardest part of the
last ten years of deception--letting her father and stepmother suffer, missing their son, and not
conscious of the truth during their waking hours. Only in dreams, once each moon, did they visit
Athrar.

"The deed is done," Mrillis said, his words slipping into the steady rhythm of the boys'
battle. "The course is run."

"Three hearts are one," Meghianna said, providing the final step in the spell that
unlocked the barrier in their minds.

Efrin and Glyssani staggered backwards a step, holding onto each other. Confusion
widened their eyes, then Glyssani muffled a sob and her expression turned radiant. She leaned
into Efrin's arm around her and laughed, the sound broken and soft.

"I'm sorry for all you had to suffer," Meghianna began.

"You forget, darling," Efrin scolded, waving a finger in her face. "It was our idea. Well
worth the joy of watching our son grow up. Of not being strangers to him, now." He turned to
watch the boys again. "To know that he doesn't hate us, or despise us as cowards for sending him
away."

"Boys!" Mrillis said. He snapped his fingers, making the lantern lights flicker on and off
three times, when they didn't pay attention to him immediately.

The boys finally saw the newcomers in the doorway, and immediately dropped their
weapons to their sides. Lycen nudged Athrar, tucked his shield under his arm and held out his
free hand. Athrar gave his sword to him, dropped his shield, stripped off his helmet and dropped
it on the shield. He shuddered, like a horse ridding itself of flies on a hot summer day. Then he
ran across the pounded clay of the practice floor, transforming from warrior to little boy in two
heartbeats.

Meghianna saw the ache in Lycen's face before he forced a mask of concern to cover it,
and she thought her heart would burst with mingled pride and sympathy. When she held out her
arms, Lycen came to her. She hugged him, then sputtered and made a fuss of wiping away the
sweat that soaked his hair and dampened his face. He laughed and rolled his eyes, like any boy,
pleased and embarrassed by his mother's fussing. It gave them both an excuse not to watch as
Athrar embraced his parents and the three muffled their happy tears.

"Now." Efrin cleared his throat twice, then tapped on Meghianna's shoulder. When she
turned, she found Athrar firmly caught between both his parents, his arms around their waists,
their arms around his shoulders, as seemingly comfortable together as if they had always stood
this way. "I need to be introduced to my grandson."

Lycen went perfectly still, and his mouth dropped open in stunned surprise before he
caught himself. He made a move to stay pressed against Meghianna when she released the arm
wrapped around his shoulder, then he stood up straight and his head went high, and he bowed
low from the waist.

"None of this," Efrin said, chuckling. He reached out and grasped Lycen's shoulders,
raising the boy up straight again, and looked long into his face. "You are my daughter's son, my
son's beloved older brother and best friend, and I am proud to claim you as my grandson."

"Lad," Mrillis said. Efrin, Lycen and Athrar all turned to look at him, which earned
sputters of laughter from Meghianna and Glyssani. "Efrin," he corrected, and shook his head,
grinning. "I fear that if Lycen obeys your next command, and calls you Grandfather in public,
that will cause him more harm than good."

"Your grandfather loathes politics and all the games and rank-consciousness in the
Court." Glyssani stepped up and slipped her arm through Lycen's, drew the boy to her, and
pressed a kiss on his forehead. He stared, a tiny smile in one corner of his mouth, and Meghianna
knew he had fallen under the spell of the queen, as well as the woman. She was pleased. "You
will, however, address us as Grandmother and Grandfather in private, won't you?"

"Yes, Highness." Lycen swallowed. "Grandmother." He nodded and turned his head
back to Efrin. "Grandfather."

"If you call me Uncle, I'll pound you," Athrar growled.

"Since when? You're still smaller than me," Lycen retorted. He only hesitated two
heartbeats to join in the laughter. Meghianna laughed last, when she was sure her son indeed felt
welcome. She had known her father and stepmother would welcome Lycen, that they longed to
meet her son and eagerly asked for stories of him whenever the three met in their dreams, but she
knew better than to tell Lycen and give him that assurance. The boy had too much on his plate to
take in and understand, without burdening him with the concept of who now claimed him as
family.

Lysette and Syndal's family had been decimated in the generations of attacks by the
Nameless One and then the depredations of the Rey'kil rebels, so there were very few to claim
Lycen as kinsman. That had made it easy for Meghianna to claim the orphan boy and make him
her son. Lycen's birth parents would eventually be revealed, and Meghianna supposed those few
blood-kin would make themselves known. She hoped Lycen would be happy to know them, but
that he would feel no need to step out of his identity as her son.

As night turned toward morning, she led Athrar and Lycen to her quarters in the
Warhawk's fortress. Until the meeting of the Court, when Megassa and Markas were scheduled
to make their appearance, the masquerade would continue. Meaning Athrar continued pretending
to be her son. The boys made up pallets in the outer room of her suite, with cushions and
blankets. They whispered together for a few minutes after she kissed them goodnight and went
into her bedroom. She lay awake until long after silence and then deep, even breathing filled the
other room. Sleep didn't come to her until the first weak, silvery cold gleam of pre-dawn touched
the horizon.

* * * *

Mrillis had such a habit of appearing without warning at the Warhawk's fortress, he
barely made the kitchen staff blink when he walked into their domain at dawn and asked to have
bath water sent up to his quarters, and breakfast for three in the Warhawk's quarters. He caught a
few speculative glances among several of the older members of the staff. Not at all ashamed of
his mischievous intent, he waited until he was nearly out the door, then turned back.

"I almost forgot. Princess Meghianna has arrived as well. She will need bath water and
breakfast for herself and her two sons. And see that news doesn't leave this room, understood?"
He turned and swept the room with his gaze.

Old friends nodded, grinning openly. Newer servants who had been added since
Meghianna's last visit gaped. Then Brackle the head cook's smile froze, and he shook his
head.

"Did you say 'son,' Lord Mrillis?"

"No, I said sons, as in two. Very clever boys. You'll like them. King Markas, Princess
Megassa and their families will be here late morning. I imagine there will be a welcoming feast
this evening, so you might as well start preparing before you get the news from the seneschal."
He winked, nodded, and slid out the door. Though he strained his ears, he didn't hear the burst of
speculative words until he was nearly at the other end of the hallway. Mrillis found it hard to
keep his laughter muffled.

His next stop was at Efrin and Glyssani's suite. As he expected, both were awake and
hard at work, planning the grand revelation to be staged that afternoon. It did his heart good to
see the new flush of color in their faces, the extra brightness in their eyes. Allowing them to
spend time with Athrar in their dreams had allowed them to know their son and be part of his
life, and him to be part of theirs. Still, dreams could not make up for the years of longing,
missing their son during their waking hours. It had been easier for Athrar, in some ways--he had
a completely different life when he was awake. Mrillis prayed Efrin and Glyssani would be
permitted many happy years with their son, now that he had been restored to them.

"This is rather frustrating," Glyssani said, as they ate breakfast. "We can't even order his
rooms prepared until after he's acknowledged. I don't have any clothes for him. I know worrying
about such things are silly, in the grand scheme of things, when someone is out there, trying to
hunt him down and kill him." She sighed and offered Efrin a wobbly smile. "But that's what
mothers do."