White Blood (26 page)

The girl was so eager to listen. Maryn ached to confess the whole truth to her, but the spell was still too strong. She could only shake her head ruefully. “Frightening. I was terrified the whole time.”

The servant squeaked in delicious horror. “Did you really think the princess was going to kill you all?”

The spell bound Maryn’s tongue. She pushed against it with all her might, but it didn’t yield. Maryn finally gave up. “I guess. Please, is there a garderobe I might use? I’m so tired.”

The servant girl looked disappointed, but she nodded. “Come with me.”

Maryn hoisted Barilan to her hip and followed the servant as she pushed through the door. Two guards stood outside. Seeing Maryn, one of them cleared his throat apologetically. “Excuse me, miss, but Captain Tennelan asks that you stay in your room. For your own safety and that of the king, of course.”

“Of course,” Maryn echoed. For a moment she’d almost forgotten she was still a prisoner. Carlich wasn’t taking any chance she might escape.

The servant girl frowned, looking back and forth from the guard to Maryn. “But she just needs to use the garderobe. I’ll bring her back in a moment.”

“I’m sorry. We have our orders.” Neither guard moved, but Maryn was sure they would be quick to stop her if she tried to pass.

“It’s all right,” she hastened to reassure the disgruntled servant. “I’ll just use the chamberpot.”

“It’s under the bed. I’ll come back later and empty it for you.” She scowled at the guard, though whether it was for the disregard for Maryn or the increased workload, Maryn wasn’t sure. “Don’t worry. I’ll see you have everything you need.”

“Thank you.” Maryn watched as she headed off. Neither guard would meet her eyes, instead staring straight ahead. Maryn retreated into her room and shut the door.

She made ready and climbed into bed, snuggling Barilan close. He nursed eagerly and soon fell asleep. But even tired as she was, Maryn’s thoughts kept her awake for a long time. Her imagination spun a thousand strategies she might employ either to escape or to get word of Carlich’s true guilt to someone who could make use of the knowledge. But each scenario came up short against the reality of the compulsion spell. It imprisoned her far more surely than all the guards Carlich could post. Unless she could find some way to defeat it, any attempt would be doomed to failure.

She woke with a start. The light coming through the diamond panes of the window was the pale grey of dawn. Barilan still slept; she crept from the bed without disturbing him. There was something she had to do; she felt the need as a dragging sensation in her gut. She couldn’t think what could be so urgent, but she fumbled at the laces on her bodice in her haste to do them up, and kicked at her skirts in an outpouring of frustration when they twisted around her legs. She finally got them untangled and rushed to the door.

She jerked it open. Two guards stood at attention, different ones than the night before. Startled, they both turned to her.

“Please,” she blurted. “I must speak to Prince Carlich. He ordered me to come to him right away.” She panted, fighting to contain the desperate compulsion to push past the guards and go in search of Carlich. He’d told her she must seek him out as soon as she felt his spell begin to weaken.

She realized with a wild burst of hope that indeed, the spell was very weak. Over the hours while she slept its power had waned, until now she felt sure she could find a way to defy it. But before she could formulate a plan, one of the guards nodded at her. “I’m sorry, miss, we can’t let you leave your room. I’ll go tell his Highness you wish to speak to him.”

If only she’d managed to figure out what was going on soon enough to hold her tongue! Now it was only a matter of minutes before Carlich arrived to renew the spell. The other guard remained at his station. What could she say to him quickly enough?

She tried hard to speak. She wanted to say, “Prince Carlich is lying. He murdered Prince Marolan, and tried to kill Princess Voerell. I saw him.” But the spell was still too strong to allow her to be so direct. She searched her mind for words oblique enough to say despite the remnants of the spell that would still catch the guard’s attention.

The guard peered at her. She must look odd, standing there struggling to speak. He was a pudgy young man with a round face and pale blue eyes framed by nearly invisible blond lashes. Something about him struck her as familiar. Surprised out of her train of thought, she looked more closely at him, trying to remember.

“I know you.” It was easy enough now to speak, as long as it wasn’t in direct defiance of Carlich. “Weren’t you the one who escorted us when we went to…to my house, that burned.” She swallowed, her thoughts shying away from the horror of that day. But the sympathetic young soldier had helped her, his compassion the one of the few spots of goodness in that miserable time. “The one who kept throwing up. Teor…Tioch…”

“Tior,” he supplied. He shuddered, a look of dismay passing over his features. “I remember. You were the last one I took in, before I could finally get away from the bodies, and the ashes, and the stench…Oh, Holy One, you were the one with the baby.” He turned away, pale, struggling to swallow.

“Yes.” Maryn’s voice shook, but she found she could face the memory. Her current need overshadowed her past grief. “After that I went to Loempno, and was chosen to nurse Prince Barilan. That’s why I’m here.”

He turned back, face full of sympathy. “I’m so sorry you had to get caught up in this mess, after all you’ve been through.”

Maryn shook her head, impatient. “That’s not important right now. But please, can you help me? I need…I need…” Try as she might, however, she couldn’t force any indictment of Carlich past her lips, even to this friendly listener.

“What is it? I’d be happy to get you whatever you want, after my watch is over. I’m sure the Captain won’t mind. Is there someone I could tell you’re here? Your family, maybe? Or that woman who was with you, I think she was your friend?”

Maryn seized on his suggestion. Siwell could help her. She knew about blood magic. Midwives were Healers, and healing was a branch of sorcery. Maybe she could find some way to free Maryn from Carlich’s compulsion. “Yes! Please! Her name is Siwell Narila, she’s a midwife. She lives in the north quarter of town. Tell her Maryn is here, I have to speak with her. But you can’t let P—Pr—anyone know. Can you bring her to me secretly, sometime when you’re on guard?”

Tior’s brow creased. “I don’t know. I mean, of course I’ll tell her you’re here and want to speak with her, but I don’t think I can bring her here. That’s against my orders; I’d get in big trouble.”

“Please! You have to! You’re the only one who can help me! It’s important, you don’t know—” Footsteps echoed down the corridor. Maryn jerked around to see the other guard lead Carlich around a corner and down the long hall toward her door. Her voice nearly froze, but her need was so urgent she overrode the spell’s force. “They’re coming! Don’t let anyone know you spoke with me! Especially not the Pri—Prin—” She gave him one last, frightened look before ducking back inside her room and shoving the door closed.

She snatched Barilan from the bed and rushed over to the low dresser she’d set up as a place to change his diapers. He squalled in protest at the abrupt waking and kicked mightily, but she had the drenched cloth off him and a fresh one in position before the door opened.

Carlich strode in and murmured a brief word to the guards before shutting the door. She greeted him with a carefully formal nod as her hands stayed busy with Barilan’s diaper. “Good morning, my lord. I sent for you as soon as I woke, because I felt your spell weakening.”

“Well done,” he said magnanimously. “We’ll take care of that right away, as soon as you’re finished. And you have my permission to call me ‘your Highness’ from now on.”

“Yes, your Highness.”

Maryn finished with Barilan’s diaper and hoisted him to her hip. Her feet dragged as she approached Carlich. With great reluctance she extended the arm that hurt less. They were both swollen and tender, but none of the cuts had bled further, and they all seemed to be healing cleanly without festering. Still, she grimaced and suppressed a gasp when Carlich took her hand and pushed up the sleeve of her shift.

He frowned. “Someone’s going to notice those if we’re not careful. Here, I’ll be nice to you and use my own blood today; I’m sufficiently recovered.” Maryn blinked back tears of relief as Carlich set his knife to his arm and blood gushed forth. The spell was quickly accomplished, and she fell into the familiar dull thoughtlessness.

Carlich pulled his sleeve down. “Stay in your room today unless I summon you. The servants will bring you all you require. Don’t speak with anyone beyond a few pleasantries if they should press you. Don’t give anyone the slightest reason to suspect you’re concealing anything. And remember to notify me when the spell weakens.”

“Yes, your Highness.” Maryn watched Carlich leave her room. The door swung shut behind him with a solid thunk. She sank into the soft chair by the fire, got Barilan started nursing, and stared at the cold grey ashes in the hearth.

Not long after, the servant girl bustled in bearing a steaming bowl. “I put extra honey in your porridge. Here, don’t get up.” She dragged a small table over and placed the bowl on it, in easy reach of Maryn’s free hand. “There, now you don’t need to wait until he’s finished filling his belly to fill yours.”

“Thank you.” Maryn scooped a spoonful of porridge into her mouth.

“Is it to your liking?” The servant girl peered at her anxiously.

“Yes.” Maryn struggled to get out a few more words. “It’s very good.”

The girl smiled, pleased, and perched on a chair facing Maryn. “I can’t stay long; I’ve got to get on with my work. But they won’t mind if I keep you company for a few minutes. Now that you’re rested, I bet you’re just bursting to tell someone about everything that’s happened to you.”

Indeed, Maryn longed to pour out her heart to the girl, even if she was just trolling for gossip. But the spell forced her to respond with only a noncommittal grunt. She turned away from the puzzled, hurt look in the girl’s eyes and shoveled a few more bites of porridge into her mouth.

“I mean, I’d love to hear how you got out of the palace. Are there really secret passages all under the city? I promise, I won’t tell anybody if there are.”

Maryn shrugged. She ducked her head over Barilan.

“And Prince Carlich is so handsome. I know I wouldn’t mind getting lost in the woods with him. Did he ever, you know…” The girl gave a suggestive little wiggle of her shoulder.

Maryn blushed. “No.”

“Really, I promise you can trust me. I’d never repeat anything. We servants have to stick together, you know.”

Much as she wanted to respond, the spell forced Maryn to look away. “Please go away. I’d like to be alone.”

The girl drew back as if Maryn had struck her. “Well! I guess the king’s nurse is too important to talk to a mere chambermaid. Don’t worry. I won’t bother you any more.” She snatched up the half;-;eaten bowl of porridge and flounced from the room.

Maryn closed her eyes against the tears that welled up. She hated the way Carlich’s command forced her to treat the girl so rudely. She’d probably lost the chance to befriend one of the few people who might be able to help her. Carlich was isolating her, cutting her off from any contact with others. She was sure he’d keep it up until it was too late for anything she said or did to stop him from claiming the crown.

The morning dragged by. Maryn sang to Barilan, and let him grab at her fingers and hair. She put him down on the floor so he could roll around. She changed his diaper again. She tried to interest him in nursing, but he would have none of it, so she just held him until at length hunger or boredom led him to accept her breast again. A different servant brought her lunch; Maryn didn’t speak to him. After he was gone she picked at the food.

Midway through the afternoon, just as she was beginning to feel the spell weaken, Carlich swept into the room. He was cheerful and expansive as he renewed it. “It’s been a busy morning. We’ve sent messengers to all corners of Milecha, calling for people to join us. I have high expectations in that regard. There are a number of divisions of the army who’ve served with me scattered around the kingdom. Nearly all of them will take our part, I’m sure. Even for the ones who don’t know me, the idea of following a woman’s orders will rankle. And I have many friends among the lords and nobles. Far more than Voerell, certainly. There are at least a half dozen she rejected when they sought her hand; they’ll all rush to my side.” He looked Maryn over from head to toe, and nodded, satisfied. “Bring Barilan and come with me. Vinhor asked to examine him.”

When they arrived at Vinhor’s private office, the priest rose from behind his desk and came to greet them. “Ah, Carlich, the young king is looking well. Have all his accommodations been satisfactory?”

“Oh, yes, just fine.” Carlich ran a hand along Barilan’s cheek. The baby grabbed at his fingers, and Carlich let him seize them. “You said you could check to see if the Kingship indeed passed to him?”

“Yes, I’ll be glad to. Though there’s little doubt it did, if the heirship ceremony was completed before Froethych’s death. Still, let me take a look.” Vinhor brought out a little gold knife and pricked his finger. He held his hand poised, a single drop of blood balanced on his fingertip, and reached his other arm toward Maryn. “Give the king to me, girl.”

“Yes, your Grace.” Maryn reluctantly settled Barilan into the crook of Vinhor’s elbow. Barilan screwed up his face into a wail and kicked his feet, but Vinhor gripped him firmly and ignored his protests. The priest smudged the blood from his finger on Barilan’s forehead, and murmured a long elegant series of incantations. The blood fizzed and sparked.

A soft glow spread from the blood to encompass Barilan’s body. He calmed and stared at the light. Slowly the form of Milecha’s crown solidified from the misty glow over his shock of hair.

Vinhor nodded, and intoned the syllables that brought the ritual to its conclusion. The last traces of blood on Barilan’s forehead flared and vanished. “Yes, it’s quite clear. The full powers of the Kingship reside in him. And we must assume that the ceremony was equally successful in establishing the Regency, so his mother will have access to what she needs to defend against our efforts.”