THREE DROPS OF BLOOD (13 page)

"No one with any authority who wants or enjoys it is reasonable," Mrillis returned, after
only a momentary pause, while all those thoughts raced through his mind.

"Ha!" Efrin's somber mood dropped away with a grin that emphasized the new wrinkles
around his eyes and mouth. "By your words, I am the most reasonable man who has ever served
the Estall."

"I pray your son follows in your shadow," Mrillis said, the words slipping out of his
mouth before he realized they were in his mind.

"My son? What do you know that I don't?" Efrin chose to take his words lightly. He let
out a loud sigh, only partly weariness, and slouched a little in his chair. "So, we have our little
birds safely under our wings for the last summer. Once Meggi is officially recognized as Queen
of Snows, she won't be allowed to come stay with me any longer, will she?"

"As Queen of Snows, she can choose when and how often and how long she visits her
father. And her co-worker under the Estall's blessing," Mrillis felt compelled to add.

"And what is this about my son?" he said, nodding that he understood all the unspoken
things behind Mrillis' words.

"It is high time you seriously considered taking a wife."

"I have been seriously considering it since the official mourning for Belissa ended."

"Considering how to
avoid
marriage with a dozen scheming women, guided by
their brothers and fathers, is not the same as considering marriage." Mrillis settled in the wide
windowsill with his back to the moonlit garden. "I know Ceera and your parents would agree
with me--find the woman who touches your heart, and forget about political expediency. The
Estall blesses marriages that are true bondings of heart and soul and mind, as well as the flesh.
The children that come from such marriages are a blessing to the World."

"That blessing didn't help Cafral or my parents, did it?" he mused.

Efrin's face settled into somber lines, making him look twenty years older, for a count of
ten heartbeats. Mrillis waited, giving him time to work through these momentary bursts of
melancholy. With all the burdens on his shoulders, Efrin needed to indulge in such moments of
self-pity, if only for balance in his mind and soul. Forcing a man to constantly think of others, to
put the good of the kingdom, the security of the entire World ahead of his own needs and
emotions, would harm everyone. Mrillis sometimes thought that his presence, granting the High
King the freedom to speak and feel and complain and be selfish, was the greatest good he could
do for the Warhawk throne.

"Did you know that the fathers of three of our young Valors have approached me
already about marriage?" Efrin snorted and leaned his head back against the cushioned top of his
chair. "Two are interested in Megassa as a daughter-by-law. The third thinks Meghianna would
be a good match for his son--or rather, that his son would be a good match for her. I didn't ask if
he had his eye on control of the Stronghold, or he hoped Meggi's firstborn would be a boy whom
I would name my heir."

"I think it is best to ward off all comers until our girls express interest in sweethearts,"
Mrillis said slowly.

"Then send them both to Wynystrys and lock them up until they're at least thirty!"

The two men laughed softly. Mrillis remembered feeling that way about Emrillian, when
she had realized that boys had their uses besides running errands for her.

"Pirkin is among our young Valors, did you know?" Efrin said, when silence had settled
softly through the room.

"I met him, briefly, as I came in from the stables," Mrillis said, with only the faintest
hesitation.

"I think it is my duty to tell him of the injustice his father visited on you and on him."
Efrin rubbed his bearded chin. "Better to warn him before someone reveals only the nasty details
of the story in the worst possible way."

"If I had some idea of the right way to reveal the truth to him... I don't know whether to
thank you, or beg you to say nothing. He will learn the truth eventually."

"Do you know, I might like the idea of your grandson married to one of my daughters."
Efrin's face brightened when Mrillis sat up straight, startled by the idea, but he didn't laugh.

Mrillis thought later he might not have easily forgiven the king for that, if he had.

* * * *

Meghianna sensed the somberness in the air before she walked into the Warhawk's
council chamber, her third morning back at the fortress. The Valor trainees were there, standing
along the wall opposite the windows, blinking against the bright light that spilled through the
wide-open shutters. Her attention caught on Pirkin, and his eyes widened when their gazes
met.

Megassa stood at attention, on duty for the council session, with her back against the
second door leading out of the room. As if someone so slender could keep the door closed
against a concerted assault. Meghianna might have laughed at the image of her sister digging her
boots into the stone paving and pressing her shoulders against the door. She might have laughed
any other time. Today, with the air heavy and darkened with the somber, speculative, even
curious and frowning expressions all focused on her, she could hardly breathe.

"Majesty. The Stronghold sends its greetings and prayers for the Estall's blessing."
Meghianna dropped into a low curtsy when she stopped three steps away from her father's chair
at the far end of the table.

The Warhawk sitting on the back of the chair let out a harsh rasp and hunched it
shoulders. This wasn't the calm, slightly ragged-looking, ancient bird of her childhood, but a
new, petulant Warhawk with a tendency to react to any heightened emotions within its vicinity.
What, Meghianna wondered, did the bird pick up from all these gathered Noveni and Rey'kil
nobles and elders?

"Welcome, Meghianna... Queen of Snows," Efrin said, his voice softening with
strain.

She nearly stood up straight, instead of waiting for him to take her hand and help her
stand, as the ritual had been for the last five years. Always before, Efrin had addressed her as
Meghianna Warhawk, Queen's Heir. Without thinking, her head snapped to the right, searching
for Mrillis to confirm the change. Was this what had everyone so somber and alert? Her gaze met
Mrillis' and he nodded slowly, once. Yes, she had passed the last test and her guardians and
teachers were satisfied she was ready to take on her duties without their guidance and
approval.

The problem was that Meghianna didn't want to be a grown-up. She liked knowing that
she could take chances with her decisions and attempts at magic and diplomacy, because there
would always be someone who would stop and make her think and re-think, and tell her when
she had forgotten something. From now on, no one would question her. Not to her face,
anyway.

She barely caught herself in time before her mouth twisted in bitter distaste, the
knowledge that from now on, she would be expected to be perfect, serene, omnipotent--while
half the people around her waited eagerly for her to make a mistake. They would criticize in
private and dissect every decision she made, every step she took, and never share their so-called
wisdom.

"Majesty, what is your command?" she said, deliberately tearing herself out of such
bitter, self-destructive thoughts. She nearly laughed aloud in nervous relief when her father took
her hand and helped her stand, and led her to the chair that sat directly on his right hand. A chair,
with a thick cushion and an enameled plaque with the scroll-and-lamp emblem of the Stronghold
decorating the high back. No more padded stool for her.

That wasn't much comfort. Meghianna sternly shoved the uneasy thought away just as
fiercely as all the doubts that would sap her strength and confidence.

If her teachers and guardians believed she was ready to carry her duties without their
guidance, then she was ready. They trusted her. She had to remember that, no matter what
anyone said, either to her face or behind her back.

Besides, she could always rely on Mrillis and her father. And Megassa would always tell
her the truth.

"The decision is yours now, Lady of the Stronghold." Efrin's mouth twisted in a crooked
grin as he helped her sit in her new chair, then bowed low to her. "Name the time of your
investiture. And the place."

"The grand meadow where royal marriages take place," she promptly responded.

That was easy enough. She and Megassa had daydreamed away many rainy afternoons,
planning the various ceremonies that awaited them. The day Megassa would receive her spurs as
a fully trained Valor. Meghianna's investiture as Queen of Snows. Their wedding ceremonies.
They knew what color dresses they wanted to wear, the colors of the flowers, the wine to be
served, the food, the songs to be played for dancing.

"A wise political move, Lady," Lord Rondell said, nodding. Murmurs drifted up and
down the table as the various lords and elders added their approval and other comments.

And to think I hated the word 'politics' before this,
she thought, casting out a
mental hand to touch a Thread and share her wry observation with Mrillis. His mouth twitched,
and a light flush touched his cheeks from the effort not to laugh. Suddenly, Meghianna felt a
thousand times better. Mrillis understood.

Taking the hint from Lord Rondell's comment, Meghianna let the council debate the best
time and how many layers of nobility to invite to the ceremony. She sat at her father's right hand,
paying more attention to the novelty of being able to lean back in the chair and relax, instead of
having to sit upright with perfect posture on the stool. Nalla would never let her slouch or rest
her elbows on the table when she grew tired.

She came alert to the discussion when the talk turned to the smaller details of the
ceremony, including her escort for the ceremony. It was a given that Valors would escort her
from the tent where she would prepare for the ceremony. When Queen D'marus, of the Moertan
kingdom of Arknay, suggested that the Valor trainees be included in the escort as a statement of
confidence in the future, Meghianna remembered the conversation with her sister only a few
days before. This was all politics, of course, but she could see where it was a good use of
politics. Including these young Valors, some of whom were loudly reluctant possessors of
imbrose,
would do much toward soothing newly upset feelings. Giving honor to Noveni
noblemen and tying their names to the investiture of the new Queen of Snows would say much
about the value the Rey'kil placed on the alliance with the Noveni.

"Prince Pirkin, of course, is the highest-ranked," she offered, neatly sliding into the
conversation in the slight pause before the expected argument began over the order of
precedence.

The silence stretched five heartbeats longer. She avoided looking at Mrillis, sitting on
her father's left hand, because she was afraid whatever she saw in his eyes would make her
laugh. Instead, she looked at Pirkin and his friends, standing along the opposite wall. He gravely
bowed to her. Meghianna caught several of the young men staring at her, and a few scowled. The
ones who scowled the deepest and darkest, she noted, were the ones who had tried to curry her
favor just in the two days since she had returned to the fortress.

Did they think they had more right to be her escort, or that she had to like them best, just
because they brought her flowers and sweets and flattered her? Did they think that choosing
Pirkin as her escort automatically betrothed them? Some of them were oblivious enough to
ignore the fact that Pirkin hadn't done more than talk with her before a meal with the Court.

"That is very true." Efrin nodded to her. "Prince Pirkin, you will furnish us with a
detailed list of the Valors newly come here for training, to choose the remainder of your
companions. I do not want to pick young men merely by the size of their father's territory, but by
other criteria. You are free for several hours this afternoon, Lady?"

He paused, and for two seconds, Meghianna didn't know who he referred to. Then she
realized that her father could no longer call her 'my dear' or even 'birdy' in public any
longer.

"Immediately after today's lesson with the Valors, yes," she said, and prayed her face
didn't look as red warm as it felt. "Prince Pirkin, will you stay and discuss the criteria with
me?"

"I am honored, Lady." He bowed low to her. And winked, tipping his head to the right to
indicate several of his fellows, who whispered furiously among themselves.

It occurred to her for the first time that she might have put him in an awkward position
among his friends and fellow-trainees. It seemed Pirkin saw some humor in the situation, the
possible mad scramble for his favor and for precedence among the trainees. Meghianna was glad.
She wondered if he came by that sense of humor naturally, or if he had learned it from his father
and step-mother. She rather hoped it was inborn, and he had inherited his wit and insight from
his grandfather, Mrillis.

* * * *

"Excuse me, Lady." Borys stepped up to the window where Meghianna sat for a breath
of fresh air while waiting for the noon meal to be brought into the council chamber. "I wonder if
you could clarify something for me?"

"I will try, Lord Borys." Meghianna agreed with Megassa, that Borys' good looks were
in direct contrast to the lack of beauty in his soul. "You disagree with my choice of Prince Pirkin
as my escort?"

"I wouldn't disagree with any choice you made, Lady. But I question the accuracy in
calling him the highest ranked among us. Goarlotte is a small kingdom, and only partially
reclaimed from the poisoning of star-metal at that."

"You didn't hear my royal father say that criteria would not be based on size of
territory."

"I did hear him, yes--"

"Leave off, Borys," Pirkin said, coming over to join them. He gave a short bow of head
and shoulders to Meghianna.