Darkness Risen (The Ava'Lonan Herstories Book 4) (9 page)

They moved silently through the grounds, to the
Train’Marm’s secret place for them. It was thankfully empty, the pallet covered
in satin unoccupied. The Train’Marm secured his bonds to the loops anchored in
the stone walls, then turned to him and stroked his face. He restrained himself
from flinching away - her wrath at such rejection was terrible.

“I know you hate this bit,” she said, tugging at one
of the straps that held it in place. He grunted as the whole harness tightened
from her pulling. She wiped at a tear, licked the salt moisture from her
finger. She gazed at him once more, an enigmatic look in her eyes.

“You are still innocent,” she said, and the longing
wistfulness in her voice made Varo’s eyes widen in surprise. Fekniri turned
away, bending the crop as if she wished to break it. “The Queen wants your -
sexual breaking to start. Her guest’s comments on your performance, and her
having to admit that she has not tasted you has angered her. She wants you to
start mounting the Fillas on command. But -” she turned to face him, and there
was a fierce look in her eyes, “you are mine!
I
want to taste you first
- while you are still - unsullied...”

She came back and tugged on the bit straps again. “I’ll
take this off - for a trade.”

He looked at her, brows down. Did she want him to
mount her? Surely she was not that stupid, not to put herself in so vulnerable a
position.

She laughed at his expression. “Oh, I could have my
way with you without fear, if I chose,” she said mockingly, brandishing the
crop. “But that is not what I want right now. What I want is - a kiss.” She
cocked her head. “That’s not so terrible, is it?”

Gavaron and Varo again felt bile rise. A kiss, so
simple a gesture, was also the most complicated. Anyone could copulate - it was
not necessary to love to have sex. But to kiss, and mean it, which was what she
wanted, he was sure of it... He was not sure he could stomach that.

And more than that, every action was a trap in this
place, designed to bind him deeper into his captivity. Perhaps Fekniri had been
left vulnerable in certain ways for a reason? Had he played into his enemy’s
hands? Could he turn it to his advantage anyway?

He nodded. She smiled and stroked his head, then
hooked his choke chain over a ring and looped the trailing end around her hand.

“Just in case, sweetling,” she murmured as she
worked on the straps. Finally the whole harness came off, and he sighed in
relief. Then he was being drawn down by one of the loops in his collar.

“Kiss me, as you would have kissed your little
bathing girl,” she whispered, tilting her face up to his, her lips parting. He
went willingly, and he felt her lips touch his. When her tongue slid into his
mouth, he bit down as hard as he could, until salt-sweet blood flowed.

Fekniri screamed and pulled away, striking him
before he could bite all the way through. He spat out her blood and grinned at
her as she danced around, holding her mouth.

“Did you really expect me to make it easy?” he
jeered as she fell to her hands and knees, claret pouring from her mouth. She
summoned a rite that began healing her tongue as it began to swell.

“Come, cry a hundred tears for me!” Varo taunted
her. Fekniri shot him a murderous look and the choker seared red-hot around his
neck, freezing his breath almost completely.

“Th-that’s right,” he choked out, “kill me. De -ny
the Qu - een her - prize...”

Darkness was a welcome shroud.

CHAPTER
V

the darkness, like a jagged splinter
slicing deep within her mind, turned...

The
next turn brought orders for Jeliya and the egwae to ‘tun to the Acaila Lan’mba.
The move was accomplished quickly and efficiently, fifty fresh warru appearing
with the messenger to help. They took all the burden off of the over-exhausted
travelers. They packed up everything, took charge of the mounts, made the av’tun,
and the egwae had merely to limp through - and they were in civilization again,
and an egwae no more. The Lan’mba was like paradise, with hot food and baths
waiting, soft, deep pallets beckoning, clean clothes and security and true
rest, finally.

But Jeliya found no rest. Her heart’s anguish and
the troubles before her kept her from the arms of Sleep far into the eve. She
found that she was slow in recovering. She felt a never-ending fatigue, and she
seemed to have caught, of all things, a cold, as had other members of the
former egwae. Jahun’no had hovered over her, until she was ready to scream, but
she bore it until he finally asserted that she was on the mend. Now she was
about to head into the thick of it. She stared out into the eve, listening to
the drowsy beating of the tuku...

the darkness
turned...

A tuk’ni drum sounded from the empty air, echoing
throughout the Lan’mba, merging with then cutting across the already beating
drums within the large laire of lains. The sound broke into Jeliya’s troubled
sleep, making her sit up fast. It was the royal fanfare, ending with the High
Queen’s signature. Jeliya sat still until the last reverberating tone died
away.

Her mother was coming! Anticipation and trepidation
welled up inside her as the expected flurry of servants and maddi descended
upon her in a virtual hurricane of preparations. They had a whole san’chron to
work on her, and they did themselves proud. Jeliya bore their primping and
pampering in a daze of absorbed thoughts. It seemed like it had been forever
since she had seen her mother. Being in the presence of the High Queen would truly
be the mark of her return.

Her brothers appeared, dressed almost identically in
de’sikis and kwats that were the deep blue and royal purple of the Tribe Ava’Lona,
heavily embroidered with gold thread around the seams. Their guinne had been
preened till they shone and were secured in an elaborate warru style. Pentuk
was radiant in a pale purple and lighter blue silk wrap, white-gold thread
embroidered and a crownette made of a royal blue hybiscus pulling all her
guinne up beautifully. R’Kyl stood beside Rilantu in all her Katari finery,
layer upon layer of necklaces taking the place of a bustiere and a sheer pec’ta
girding her hips. A large double comb carved from a single sapphire and hung
with terraces of seed pearls adorned her crest, and a matching sapphire blue
scarf flowed from the comb to lay across her shoulders. Otaga stood off to the
side in her dark purple warru de’siki and kwats with gold trim. And Jeliya
looked down at herself. She was dressed in a deep gold top and bottom wrap that
had intermingled patterns of blue and royal purple thread adorning it, and her
long guinne were done up with gold fastenings and strips of kente cloth in the
style of High Heir. A light, sheer mantle of purple flowed from her shoulders
and gold bangles and earrings and other jewelry clinked and tinkled all over
her.
I can’t believe the amount of jewelry and finery they’ve put on me! It’s
even more than when Ashmisa had come to visit. Did I really wear all this
before I went on Safania?

Rilantu and Staventu came forward and each proffered
a hand to her. They helped her rise and slowly walk the short distance to the
receiving lain, where a large mosaic depicting a stylized ameda tree covered
the floor of the receiving enclosure. They stood behind her in formal array, with
Rilantu to the right and Staventu to the left, Otaga behind and to the right of
Rilantu, Pentuk behind and to the left of Staventu, and R’Kyl directly behind
Jeliya. She took five paces forward alone, her legs trembling a bit from
walking and standing without aid, but they were less shaky than they were the
turn before and getting stronger. She was definitely on her way to full
recovery of her physical strength.

A great warmth sprang up and suffused the group,
followed immediately by a flash that quickly died away to reveal a brilliant av’tun.
Jeliya gazed at it even though her eyes burned and watered and the Av’ins
danced on her retinas. She blinked stars away from her eyes to see a regal
figure emerge. She immediately bowed deeply with her arms spread.

“Mother Queen,” she said, “I have returned to you.
My heart swells with light and my soul is at last at peace.”

“Daughter Heir,” said her mother’s rich voice, “my
heart swells with light and my spirit is now at peace, that you’ve returned to
me.”

Jeliya straightened and at the sight of her mother’s
face forgot all formality and flew into Audola’s arms, laughing and crying with
joy.

“Mother!” she cried, hugging her mother fiercely,
and receiving just as fierce a hug.

“Jeliya, dear heart, how I’ve missed you,” Audola
said liquidly, stroking guinne that was just returning to a healthy
sheen-silkiness, and feeling ribs that were just beginning to fill out with
healthy flesh. She held Jeliya away and saw the changes and fading marks of
hardship and suffering.

“Oh, my child, what a time you’ve had,” she
whispered, and received the wry smile and shrug that she had missed. She pulled
her daughter back to her.

“More than you know, mother,” Jeliya murmured back,
holding tight and feeling, for just a gran, completely safe again. Then they
each stepped back. The two parties attending them came forward and formal
introductions were made for R’Kyl and her escorts. All acted as if the touching
scene between mother and daughter had not occurred. It was their little private
moment of happiness, and none would infringe upon it.

They retired to a lain set aside for informal lorns,
and arrayed themselves in a circle with Audola at one point with her back to
the este. Jeliya sat opposite her, facing este. The others chose seats as they
would. Audola, her Av’lati and her five remaining Voices cast rites of
protection and privacy, for the Lan’mba were nowhere near as secure as the
heart of T’Av’li. All contributed what they could to the casters.

A servant came forward at a glance from Audola and
set the small, rounded, handleless ceremonial cups before each of them. Then
she filled the cups, from a matching pitcher of fine porcelain that was covered
with chips of jadine set in intricate patterns. They raised their cups and
lifted their eyes to the unseen sky above.

“We give thanks to the ancestors for the safe return
of my daughter,” Audola intoned.

“Ashe,” came the murmured chorus.

“We give praise to the Goddesses for her deliverance
and bless those who undertook the journey to extricate her from peril.”

“Ashe.”

“We give love and worship to the Supreme One
watching over her through her trials. Ashe.”

“Ashe, ashe, ashe!” And with that they all drank a
sip of gulu, raised the cups again, then poured a small amount to the soil of
planters that ringed the sitting area.

Then there was the slightest of pauses, as they
waited for Audola to set the tone of the gathering - would the good news
precede or succeed the bad?

She spread her arms to draw everyone’s attention to
her. “Let us have the good news first. There is time enough to make it pale
with the less than joyous happenings.” A minute twinkle in her eyes danced and
laughed, telling them that she had news of her own, but telling nothing more.

Rilantu glanced around as everyone hesitated, caught
between wanting to share news and hear the news of others, then spread his
arms. None objected. His eyes lingered on his twin, some shared thing passing
between them.

“I will begin, then,” he said, and moved forward to
take one of Audola’s hands and bowing his head over it.. “Mother, I announce
that First Filla Rama’Kyl and I are Jur’Av’chi’al’in, by Goddess-bond. With
your blessing, our two Tribes will soon be one.”

And before she could draw breath to utter a sound of
surprise, Staventu was holding her other hand, also bowed so that the two held
identical poses.

“Mother, I announce the betrothal of Pentuk Aryana
and myself, two lost souls who found each other and would become one.”

Audola seemed stunned to immobility. All waited upon
the bait of her breath for her reaction to this totally unexpected turn of
events. The moment seemed to hang suspended forever until Sinyi, unable to
waited any longer, blurted,

“Isn’t there
anything
that you two don’t do together?”

That surprised a laugh out of Audola, and she drew
her twin sons to her, caught between happiness and tears. She hugged them close
and kissed their brows, and the circle dissolved into a general chaos of kisses
and hugs and well-wishing backslaps. Audola embraced both her daughters-to-be, blessing
each as she had her sons with kisses on the brow.

“The Tribe Ava’lon is strengthened and enriched by
these pairs,” she said, her voice like satin turned to wine, “I bless both with
my love and the love of the Av’rujo, and by the hands of the Goddesses and the
Supreme One.” Then she caught their hands again and reached out to Jeliya to
draw her nearer, forestalling them from returning to their seats.

“I also have an announcement,” she said. Her three
children sat up straighter and looked at each other. They had not heard that mischievous
tone from their mother in a long time, but they knew it well. Audola just
smiled, and cut her eyes to the right. Her three children’s gazes, following,
alighting on the First Voice.

Luyon, to Audola’s right, cleared his throat and
inclined his head. All gazes of wonder turned to him. “I, First Voice to the
High Queen, am humbled and joyous by her acceptance of my love and my -” he
stopped, not really searching for words, but perhaps wondering if there were
words sufficient to express what he felt, “-my wish to be hers, to be he that
makes her whole. To be one with her. I - we are betrothed.” He dropped his
eyes, almost embarrassed that the depth of his feelings should be so bald to
this group.

“S’bout time,” Sinyi said matter-of-factly. Luyon
looked outraged at the comment, then began to laugh. Of course the others would
know. Only the twins and the Heir would be surprised.

He was not wrong. The three sat with eyes wide and
mouths agape as if the gulu in their bellies had begun to move independent of
them.

“
Mother
?” Jeliya was the first to recover.
She turned to Audola and saw the change, saw the subtle shades of happiness
that had replaced the melancholy that no one had ever really been aware of but
that all had sensed. Then it hit her. Her mother was happy! Audola had finally
chosen a new mate. Her arms were about Audola before she even finished the
thought.

“Oh, Goddesses, Mother, I’m so happy for you!” she
cried, and in truth tears were coming. But self-discipline was on hold for this
occasion. Now was the time to reveal - discipline had no place among the things
being said here this turn.

The twins broke into huge grins and piled their own
congratulations onto Jeliya’s so that Audola was nearly smothered by the weight
of her children. Then Jeliya welcomed Luyon as the new Prince Consort,
squeezing him hard.

“It
is
about time,” she murmured to him.

“Yes, it is,” he answered, smiling into her eyes.
She smiled back.

“I couldn’t think of a better man,” she said, then
her smile turned sly. “I guess all those eves I spent burning incense and offering
prayers paid off.”

He blinked as her words washed over him. But in the
instant it took for them to come clear, she had moved out of range of discreet
inquiry.

The lorn eventually sorted itself out. After the
last embrace and everyone had resumed their seats, smiles slowly faded and
spirits grew perceivably sober as all prepared for the bad tidings. Audola
changed again, again in very subtle ways, her expression emptying of emotion.

“And now, the bad,” she said quietly. Otaga waited a
sils then spread her arms.