The Oracle's Queen (44 page)

A small hand closed over his. “I'm sorry you're so sad, Master.”

Arkoniel gathered him close and rested his face against the boy's hair. “Thank you. I'll miss her.”

He couldn't find much of an appetite. As he threw his uneaten bread into the fire, Tamír slipped in without knocking.

“Good morning.” He attempted a smile, but it did not come easily, not with his heart still aching at her treatment of Iya. “Wythnir, the queen and I must speak alone. Go finish your breakfast in the big room.” The boy slid out of bed at once, still in his long shirt. Arkoniel wrapped him in Iya's cloak and let him go.

Tamír closed the door after him and leaned against it, arms folded tight across the front of her tunic. “I've sent Una and some riders to muster the southern holdings. I'm readying for war as soon as we reach Atyion.”

“That's good.”

She just stood there a moment, then sighed. “I'm not sorry, you know, about Iya. Brother wanted me to kill her. Sending her away—it was the best I could do.”

“I know. She understood.”

“But I guess—well, I'm glad you're still here, even if we can't be friends any longer.”

Some part of him wanted to reassure her, but the words would not come. “Is that why you're here?”

“No. She said I had to keep you because of the vision you had here. I'd like to hear more about that.”

“Ah. It was Iya who was given the vision of the white palace. But she saw me there. I was a very old man, with a young apprentice by my side. The great house was filled with wizards and wizard-born children, all gathered there to learn and share their power in safety, for the good of the land.”

“Your Third Orëska.”

“Yes.”

“Where is it to be? In Atyion?”

“No. Iya said she saw a new, beautiful city on a high cliff overlooking the sea, above a deep harbor.”

She looked up at that. “Then you think this city doesn't exist yet?”

“No. As I said, I was a very old man in her vision.”

She looked disappointed.

“What is it, Tamír?”

She rubbed absently at the small scar on her chin. “I keep dreaming of being on cliffs, looking down on a deep harbor. It's somewhere on the western shore, but there's no city. I've seen it so often I feel like I've been there, but I don't know what it means. Sometimes there's a man in the distance, waving to me. I've never been able to make out who it is, but now I think maybe it's you. Ki's in the dream, too. I—” She broke off and looked away, lips pressed into a thin line. “Do you think Iya and I saw the same place?”

“Perhaps. Did you ask the Oracle about it?”

“I tried to, but got only the answer I told you of already. It wasn't much help, was it?”

“Perhaps more than you think. Iya had no idea what her vision meant at the time. Only now does it begin to make any sense. But it's encouraging if you and she saw the same place. I suspect it is.”

“Do you hate me, for sending her away?”

“Of course not. I'll miss her, but I understand. Do you hate me?”

She laughed sadly. “No. I'm not even sure I hate her. It's Lhel who actually killed Brother, but I can't hate her at all! She was so good to me and helped me when I was all alone.”

“She cares a great deal for you.”

“I wonder when I'll see her again? Maybe we should go to the keep on the way home and look for her. Do you think she's still there?”

“I looked for her when I went to fetch your doll that night, but I couldn't find her. You know how she is.”

“So, what was your vision, when you came here before?”

“I saw myself, holding a young, dark-haired child in my arms. Now I know that it was you.”

He could see how her lips trembled as she whispered, “That's all?”

“Sometimes the Lightbearer can be very straightforward, Tamír.” She looked so lost and young that he held out his hand. She hesitated, frowning, then came and sat stiffly beside him on the edge of the bed.

“I still feel like an imposter in this body, even after all these months.”

“It hasn't been all that long, compared to your life before. And you've had so much to worry about, too. I'm sorry it's had to be this way.”

She stared into the fire, blinking hard to keep from crying. At last she whispered, “I can't believe my father just stood by. How could he do that to his own child?”

“He didn't know the full extent of the plan until that night. If it's any comfort to you, he was devastated. I don't think he ever recovered. Illior knows, he had his punishment, watching what it did to your mother and you.”

“You and Iya knew him well?”

“We had that honor. He was a great man, a kind man, and a warrior beyond compare. You're very much like him. You have all his boldness, and his great heart. I already see his wisdom in you, young as you are. But you have all your mother's best qualities, too, as she was before you were born.” He touched the ring that bore her parents' paired likenesses. “I'm glad you found this. You possess all that was best in both of them and the Lightbearer did not choose you by chance. You are Illior's chosen one. Don't ever forget that, no matter what else happens. You will be the finest queen Skala has known since Ghërilain.”

“I hope you're right,” she said sadly, and took her leave.

Arkoniel sat for a while, staring into the fire. Relieved as he was at the accord that had survived between them, his heart still ached, both at the loss of Iya and at seeing how strong and fragile Tamír still was. A heavy burden lay on those narrow shoulders. He resolved to do a better job of helping her to bear it.

With that in mind, Arkoniel slipped out and made his way back to the Oracle's chamber. For the first time in his life, he went there alone, with his own questions firmly in mind.

The masked priests let him down and he found himself engulfed in the familiar darkness. He felt no fear this time, only resolve.

When his feet found the ground again he started off at once toward the soft glow nearby.

The woman sitting on the Oracle's stool might have been the same girl he'd spoken to. It was difficult to say, and no one but the high priest of Afra knew how the Oracles were chosen or how many there were at a given time. It wasn't always a girl or woman. He knew wizards who'd spoken with young men here. The only common factor seemed to be a touch of insanity or simpleminded-ness.

She shook back her tangled hair and gazed at him as he took his place on the stool facing her. Her eyes were already bright with the god's power, and her voice, when she spoke, held that strange timbre that was more than human.

“Welcome back, Arkoniel,” she said, as if reading his thoughts. “You stand at the side of the queen. Well done.”

“My task has only begun, hasn't it?”

“You did not need to come here to know that.”

“No, but I want your guidance, great Illior. What must I do to help her?”

She waved a hand and the darkness beside them opened like a huge window. There was the city on the cliffs, full of great houses and wooded parks and broad
streets. It was far larger than Ero and looked cleaner and more orderly. At its heart stood two palaces. One was low and forbidding, a fortress built into the curtain wall. The other was a huge, soaring, graceful four-sided tower, with thinner domed towers at each of the four points. This was guarded by nothing more than a single wall, and the land inside was planted with gardens. He could see people walking there, men and women and children, Skalan and 'faie, even centaurs.

“You must give her this.”

“This is the new capital she must found?”

“Yes, and the Third Orëska will be the secret guardians.”

“Guardians? I've been given that title already.”

“You keep the bowl?”

“Yes!”

“Bury it deep in the heart of the heart. It is nothing to you, or to her.”

“Then why must I keep it at all?” he asked, disappointed.

“Because you are the Guardian. By guarding it, you guard her and all of Skala and the world.”

“Can't you tell me what it is?”

“It is nothing by itself, but part of a great evil.”

“And this is what you would have me bury at the heart of Tamír's city? Something evil?”

“Can there be good, without the knowledge of evil, wizard? Can there be existence without balance?”

The vision of the city faded away, replaced by a large golden scale. In one pan lay the crown and sword of Skala. In the other lay a naked, dead infant: Brother. Arkoniel shivered and resisted the urge to look away. “Evil will always lie at the heart of all she accomplishes, then?”

“Evil is always with us. The balance is all.”

“I think I must do great good, then, to keep your balance. That child's blood is on my hands, no matter what anyone says.”

The chamber went very dark around them. Arkoniel felt the air thicken and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Yet the Oracle only smiled and bowed her head. “You are not capable of doing otherwise, child of Illior. Your hands and heart are strong, and your eyes see clearly. You must see what others cannot allow themselves to accept and speak the truth.”

A pair of naked lovers appeared on the floor between them, writhing in passion. It was Arkoniel, driving between Lhel's thighs as she clung to him. Her head was thrown back, her wild black hair spread around her ecstatic face. As he watched, his own face flushed and hot, she opened her eyes and looked directly at him. “You have my love always, Arkoniel. Never grieve for me.”

The vision faded quickly. “Grieve?”

“You delved in her body, and she has left you pregnant with magic. Use it wisely and well.”

“She's dead, isn't she?” Grief closed like a fist around his heart. “How? Can't you show me?”

The Oracle just looked at him with those shining eyes and said, “It was a willing death.”

That took none of his pain away. All this time, he'd looked forward to going back and finding her waiting for him.

He pressed his face into his hands, tears hot behind his eyelids. “First Iya, and now her?”

“Both willing,” whispered the Oracle.

“That's no comfort! What will I tell Tamír?”

“Tell her nothing. It serves no purpose now.”

“Perhaps not.” Arkoniel had long since grown used to carrying secrets and pain for the girl. Why should now be any different?

N
iryn returned from his afternoon stroll among the encampments to find Moriel and Mistress Tomara waiting for him in his private chamber. The woman held a small white bundle against her belly and she was positively beaming.

“She's with child at last, my lord!” She opened her bundle and displayed a collection of Nalia's linen undergarments.

Niryn eyed them closely. “Are you certain, woman?”

“Not a sign of blood these past two full moons, my lord, and she hasn't kept her breakfast down since the night of the floggings. I thought at first it was only her gentle spirit, but it's kept on. She's green as a marrow until noon and the heat makes her faint. I've been a midwife, as well as a lady's maid, these forty years and I know the signs.”

“Well, that is happy news. King Korin will be delighted, I'm sure. You must come tomorrow and announce it before his court.”

“You don't want to, my lord?”

“No, let's not spoil it for him. Let him think he's the first to know.” He drew two gold sesters from the air with a conjurer's flourish and presented them to her. “For the king's sake?”

Tomara took the coins and winked at him. “As you say, my lord.”

T
omara was as good as her word, and didn't so much as glance in the wizard's direction as she came to Korin the following morning as he held court.

He was in the midst of reports from his generals, but looked up in surprise to see her here at this hour. “Yes, what is it? Do you have word for me from your mistress?”

Tomara curtsied. “I do, Majesty. Her Highness bids me tell you that she is with child.”

Korin stared at her a moment, then let out a happy whoop and pounded Alben and Urmanis on the back. “That's it! That's our sign. Master Porion, send out the word to all my generals. We march on Atyion at last!”

Men in the crowded hall began to shout and cheer. Niryn stepped to Korin's side.

“Are you certain the time is right?” he murmured, too low for anyone else to hear. “After all, she can't be more than a moon or two along. Wouldn't it be wiser to wait a little more, just to be safe?”

“Damn you, Niryn! You're worse than an old woman,” Korin exclaimed, pulling away. “Do you hear that, my lords? My wizard thinks we should wait a month or two more. Why not say until next spring? No, the snows will come and the seas will be harsh. If we move now we may even catch them with their crops in the fields. What do you say, my lords? Haven't we waited long enough?”

Another thunderous cheer went up as Niryn hastily made Korin a chagrined bow. “You know best, I'm sure, Majesty. I worry only for your safety and your throne.”

“My throne is in Ero!” Korin cried, drawing his sword and brandishing it. “And before the fall harvest is in, I will stand on the Palatine and claim it properly. On to Ero!”

The rest of the company took up the rallying cry, and soon it was passed from throat to throat out into the castle yards and beyond to the encampments.

Niryn exchanged a pleased look with Moriel. His little show had worked out well, and with the desired effect. No one could question that it had been the king's will to proceed, rather than his wizard's.

*  *  *

N
alia heard the shouting and hurried out onto the balcony to see if they were celebrating her news.