THREE DROPS OF BLOOD (22 page)

Mrillis remembered the memories others had shared with him, years after the fall of the
Nameless One's fortress on Flintan. Meghianna had only sent her mind along the Threads to get
the general atmosphere and read the energy of the tower fortress of the kings of Welcairn. If he
could estimate the foulness that awaited them, based on her brief foray, this sickness had been
growing since long before the fall of the Nameless One.

Interesting
. He searched back through the impressions and the testing along the
Threads that she had done, and the memories she had sent him. The anomaly in the sickening
ripples and spikes of power caught his attention just as it had Meghianna's.

You see it too?
The relief in her voice brought a smile to the weary muscles of
his face.
I'm not imagining the hole in the foulness?

Not a hole, I think. A tunnel.

We will test it tomorrow, as we head further into the wilderness around
Tantagar.

Carefully. I don't want your father taking my head off for encouraging you to take
foolish risks.

I would only be following my teacher's example.

Have some respect for your elders, child.
Mrillis laughed, muffling the sound
so he wouldn't attract the attention of the weary soldiers riding before and behind him.

Constantly. Megs is delighted to have an adventure. Kettin and his men are torn
between enjoying the challenge and danger, and feeling guilty for having fun. And worrying
about us. We are being extra careful, I swear.

I wasn't about to scold you. Send your awareness into that spot once more, while I
am linked to you.
Mrillis compared the tunnel in the twisted, frayed Threads filling the
wilderness and the rocky valley around Tantagar to the emptiness in the core of a rotten tooth.
Meghianna's impressions and the comments of the others in her party agreed with his first
impression--this was how Timark took his prisoner safely to Tantagar, through the foul magic
and monsters that filled the landscape.

So, this is part of Timark's secret. We will be ready. Thank you for the warning and
information.

There is more.
She sent him a compact bundle of her memories of the
conversation during the ride to her party's camp.

Mrillis agreed with the speculation that Timark had been encouraging the growth of
warped monsters.

Is it possible that he recruited those failed Valors to try to find and gather
star-metal, to concentrate it around Tantagar, and maybe try to control it?
she asked, after he
had looked through all the memories.

Very possible. Thank the Estall you went ahead of us.
Mrillis sensed something,
a tension that flickered down the Thread that allowed their communication.
What is it,
child?

Don't tell Papa--not that I think you would, but... Glyssani matches the music of his
soul. They are destined for each other. She's the true love he's been waiting for.
She paused.
And they will have a son. The third drop of blood of the prophecy.

The hand born to wield Braenlicach.
Mrillis opened his eyes and looked around
at his companions.

Efrin rode slightly ahead of him, face grim, eyes unfocussed as he thought and prepared
for the battle ahead of them all. This was a battle unlike any the Warhawk's forces had fought in
years--they would be fighting their own people, instead of defending their lands against Encindi
barbarians.

Thank you for telling me,
he finally said, when the silence between him and
Meghianna rang with tension.

You would have known it the moment you touched her hand.

Yes, but it is never good to walk into a situation unprepared. I have a reputation of
being all-knowing and all-seeing.
He smiled when a tiny gulp of laughter traveled down the
Thread to him.
How do you feel about this?

Oh, we're all furious with Timark and the mental games he has played with Glyssani
and her people all these years. She has enough
imbrose
to know he's been trying to drug
her, to control her mind, but--

No, my dear. About having a stepmother and a half-brother. Eventually.

Meghianna laughed, the sound so infectious Mrillis bit his lip to keep from echoing her.
That would certainly startle those riding around him, only another hour of riding away from the
Tower of Bo'Lantier and the entrance to the tunnel between continents.

I'm delighted that Papa will finally have his true love, and his son. Megs will be
glad too, once she thinks about it.

Why?

No more nobles will try to win her heart to win the throne. If Papa has a legitimate
heir, she will be a few steps away from the throne. We talked about Glyssani and Papa, and what
the future will say about this battle, and we decided that they will think it was all fought so Papa
could win Glyssani, not to defeat a lying tyrant and protect a young king's throne. Megs said she
thought it would be nice to have a true love, and to have people fight for her love. I hope she gets
her wish. People who want her for her, not for what she can give them.

Fighting for the love of a woman of great power... That can be a good thing, or it
can lead to disaster.
He thought of Endor's pursuit of Ceera's heart, though his childhood
friend never really had a chance. How much of Endor's cruelty and bitterness came from not
winning Ceera's love? Would the world be a different, better place now, if she had turned her
heart to him, rather than to Mrillis?

He had asked himself many times, in the dark nights when loneliness threatened to crush
his soul. Would Ceera still be alive now, if they hadn't chosen the paths through life that they
did?

A man who would wreak vengeance on others just because he didn't win the love of
a woman... well, Timark is proving that he isn't worthy of her, isn't he?
Meghianna
remarked.

Mrillis laughed, startled--and grateful for it--out of his somber thoughts before they
could once again spiral down into depression.
Yes, you are very right. The difficulty lies in
convincing such a man of his errors.

I suppose at the beginning, he thought he could win Glyssani's love through honest
means. The path to perdition begins with fine intentions. Oh, Megs wants to know if we're
talking. She says the Threads are vibrating and keeping her awake.

You should get your sleep. You are all soldiers, advance scouts for the Warhawk.
Give my love to your sister, my respects and good wishes to Prince Markas and Kettin and his
fellows and...
Mrillis sighed.
Give my love to Pirkin, and my greetings to Ynessa. I look
forward to meeting my grandson's intended.

Megs says to hurry, so she can beat you at Castles,
Meghianna responded after
a moment, when he knew she passed his words on
. Good journey, Lord Mrillis. Give our
love to Papa. And thank you for being there. We would be lost without you.

And where would the world be without you, Queen of Snows, and the heir my Ceera
chose before your birth?
Mrillis inwardly groaned at the words that most likely struck
Meghianna as stiff and formal. How could he convey to her all the things she meant to him? She
was his child, his beloved pupil, his co-worker, and someone he heartily prayed would surpass
him someday. And his heart broke at the thought of all the pain and the burdens and loneliness
that would be hers someday.

He remembered his vision of Meghianna waiting alone in the silence of the Stronghold,
guarding Braenlicach for the one yet to come. If the son of Glyssani and Efrin, not yet conceived,
was the hand born to hold Braenlicach, and the third drop of blood of the prophecy, then would
the Blood born of the Blood come from him? Or would Meghianna wait generations for her own
true love to come to her, and the child that would be born of that union?

I am an old man with too much time to think and remember and wish,
he
silently scolded himself.

My love to you, Meghianna, even if you were no one but yourself, with no power, no
imbrose
, no destiny. Be careful, because I shall have to scold you severely if you come
to harm,
he added.

His heart warmed when she responded with laughter. A tear in each eye surprised him
when the connection between them severed, and he felt more alone than ever, with nearly one
thousand soldiers riding behind him.

* * * *

Meghianna had never imagined that evil had a smell. In all the writings of her
predecessors, she had noted that true evil, intelligent and cunning, cloaked itself in beauty and
sweetness. It didn't wallow in filth and pestilence, but rather fooled its victims and enemies by its
cleanliness, perfume, and riches.

She gagged when the first whiff of the thick, hot, filthy aroma burned the back of her
nose and mouth and tried to send writhing tentacles down into her stomach. It tumbled toward
them without benefit of breeze, from the bowl-shaped valley with the tower of Tantagar sitting at
the far end. The tower looked out over a precipice reputed to be so high, a man who fell over its
edge would scream for half an hour before he hit the ground far below.

"What is that?" Megassa said, her voice breaking.

"That is not death," Kettin said, shaking his head, as if he could escape the stench that
grew stronger with every heartbeat, though their traveling party had reined in their horses to stop
now. "I know the smell of death, even ten days old and fouled by drakags. This isn't such a clean
smell."

"Clean?" Ynessa choked and went so pale, Meghianna could see the veins in her neck.
To her credit, the young woman didn't lose the remains of her breakfast. She dug in the
saddlebag on her right hand and pulled out a bottle of opaque blue crystal. "I'm sorry, love, but I
think this is necessary," she said, turning to Pirkin.

He laughed and pulled out his knife, and proceeded to cut strips off the bottom of his
cloak. "You're more clever than me, and I'd be a petty man to be upset."

"About what?" Markas asked.

"Perfume?" Meghianna guessed. "Thank you, Ynessa. And Pirkin is right. Very clever. I
should have thought of it myself." She glanced around at the remainder of their party. "Do you
mind smelling like a lady's perfume?"

"Thank the Estall for sweetheart gifts," another Valor muttered from behind the wad of
his cloak he had brought up to muffle the stench.

Meghianna wove some minor magic into the generous sprinkles of perfume Ynessa and
Pirkin put on the cloths that each member of their party tied around their mouths and noses. Her
magic made the sweet, clean perfume endure and not evaporate. As long as the stench remained
in the air, the perfume would remain in the cloth.

"Well," Megassa said, when they were armed against the assault on their noses. "We can
see the tower. How much closer do you think we can get?"

"That depends on what sort of monsters Timark has under his command," Kettin
said.

"I was thinking more along the lines of how close we can get to spy without infuriating
our father." She snorted, the sound muffled behind her mask. "Or worrying your mother, Markas.
No matter how ready you are to slay a few drakags to rescue her, she'll scold you if you so much
as get a scratch on your knee."

Despite the cloths across their faces, she and the young king-to-be shared a
companionable grin of full understanding.

"We should make sure Timark and the queen are in the tower," Pirkin said. "If only so
the Warhawk and his soldiers don't waste their time marching all the way here."

"That's where we come in handy," Kettin said.

"And me," Megassa said. She glared at him, visibly daring him to forbid her
participating in the spying mission. Kettin hesitated, then took a step back and spread his hands
in surrender.

Meghianna knew better than to protest. Megassa was proud of her skill with weapons
and battle. Her sister would never forgive her if she interfered in a battle against monsters. Just
as Meghianna would never forgive herself if her sister was injured in any way.

"Kindly do not bring back any foul new poisons or venom for me to battle," she said.
"Markas, you will stay with me, please? I assume you know something about the creatures
waiting for the rest of our party, and I would like to gather as much information as I can to warn
the coming soldiers."

"I suppose that's better than pretending I'm staying here to protect you," the boy said,
with only a touch of grumbling.

"You'll make a great and good king, lad," Kettin offered. "Common sense, and knowing
when to fight and not fight. Sometimes it takes until a man is twice your age before he learns
that."

Pirkin went with the others, leaving Ynessa with Markas and Meghianna to guard their
camp.

The air buzzes,
Megassa reported after the spying party had been gone less than
half an hour.
I don't know if it really is the air, or the concentration of star-metal, or
something else.

I think it is the star-metal,
Meghianna said after a few seconds of thought.
Your mind-voice is clearer than usual. The power in the air is affecting your
imbrose
.

Ugh. Do you think if I spend too much time here, it will break the binding spell and
release all that magic I don't want?

Oh, now that's a thought...

What? Don't tease me.

What if that's why Timark has his men gathering up all the star-metal they can find
and bringing it here? To concentrate so much power, it
gives him imbrose
? Or gives
them
imbrose
to use in his service? What if he's trying to compete with the Stronghold
and Wynystrys?

What if he's trying to find the Zygradon to use against Braenlicach?
her sister
countered.