The Fall of Neskaya (31 page)

“I am listening, Uncle.”

“Firstly, I bid you well come to Thendara and to my court. You will always find a safe home with us.”
And you need not behave like an unmannered child with a pack of Yamen yammering on your track.

She dipped her head. “I thank you, Uncle.”

“We must have your needs attended to, and either the castle midwives or Lady Caitlin to make sure both you and your unborn child recover full health. And after that, I suppose all your aunts and cousins will want to make much of you, even those who remember you as a small, obstreperous child, one they were more than happy to pawn off on poor Lady Acosta.”

Taniquel caught the twinkle in his eye and smiled despite herself. “I will try to do my best to bring honor upon my foster parents. Lady Acosta did manage to teach me a few manners, even if my arrival in Thendara did not give me ample opportunity to display them.”

A flickering smile played over the corners of King Rafael’s mouth. “You did well enough. As for the political situation, there is no immediate action which is both appropriate and prudent. The Hellers are a tinderbox ready to go up in flames.”

“Then now is the time to stop Deslucido, before his strength has grown,” Taniquel said, too tired to back off although she already knew the answer.

“Now,”
he repeated with regal deliberation, “is the time to go slowly and thoughtfully. And most especially to not go seeking out a battle which might not otherwise be thrust upon us.”

“It will,” she said, lowering her eyes to her lap, where her fingers had curled into fists. “On Deslucido’s terms or on ours, it will.”

“The world goes as it will, my dear, and not as you or I would have it—or, in this case, create it out of our own fears. You have survived a difficult trial and you have borne yourself with pride. Now rest, and let wiser heads take on the world’s burdens.”

Taniquel knew when she had been dismissed. She rose, curtsied as a nobly bred lady to an equal, and withdrew.

S
pring melted into a hot, sticky summer such as came only in the lowlands. Under the watchful eye of Lady Caitlin and her royal aunts, Taniquel recovered her strength. Good food and a healthy pregnancy smoothed away the drawn look from her face and rounded her breasts and belly. She dutifully swallowed the herbal concoctions, ate the special foods urged on her by the midwives, and took the gentle exercise prescribed for her. But that was where her meekness ended.

Taniquel had attended the first meeting of Rafael’s council by his formal invitation, as a witness rather than a participant. He wanted her first-hand testimony of the use of
laran
in the conquest of Acosta. But soon, she took her own place, debating the issues as freely as any of the men.

The council included other branches of the powerful Hastur family, Hastur of Carcosa and Hastur of Elhalyn, as well as several collaterals. Taniquel didn’t know them, although the mark of kinship was plain on their features. Some followed Rafael’s lead in considering the spread of weapons like
clingfire
to be of paramount concern, while others regarded the use of
laran
mental coercion, such as the compulsion spell at the Acosta gates, a more serious threat.

“A gross abuse of
laran
,” was the opinion of Lewis Hastur, one of the Carcosa representatives, as they met at their regular session.

Taniquel’s chair, smaller and plainer than the others, was set diagonally back from her uncle’s around a circular table. On the other side of Rafael, his paxman and chief councillor, Gerolamo, stood with watchful eyes and his usual impassive expression. Maps and an opened journal, as well as a pitcher of watered wine and one of plain water covered the polished wood. The mullioned windows were thrown open against the heat of the late summer afternoon, admitting honey-thick air.

“And yet it is not unknown in warfare,” Rafael said. “
Laran
workers have long used similar methods to instill fear by tapping into each man’s private nightmares, for example, or giving water the illusion of fresh-spilled blood. Our highest priority must be halting the development of
new
weapons.”

“None of this justifies the present use of such compulsion spells,” Lewis responded.

“But it
can
be resisted,” Taniquel said. They turned to look at her. “In the battle for
our
castle . . .” She gently emphasized the word to remind them that she was Queen of Acosta as well as
comynara
. Despite her subordinate placement about the table, she formally outranked all of them except Rafael. “. . . In that battle, I myself was able to overcome the compulsion. So defense is possible.”

“That’s true,” Darren-Mikhail,
nedestro
nephew to the reigning Elhalyn lord and youngest of the council, nodded. “But only if the defending lord has his own stable of trained
laranzu’in.
Ordinary soldiers . . .” He shrugged.

“Which brings us to the latest news,” Rafael said. “We have received word across the relays at Hali last night that Tramontana Tower has acceded to Deslucido’s sovereignty.”

“What!”

“Yes, the situation is now quite different than when we met last spring. Previously, we were concerned only with Deslucido’s occasional minor use of
laran
.”

“The compulsion spell and the use of aircars in battle is hardly minor,” Lewis snapped.

“Deslucido did not use
clingfire
in the attack, although he clearly
could
have delivered it from his aircars,” Rafael said patiently. “Whether because he would not use
clingfire
or he could not, we may never know. Our relays in Hali tell us that Tramontana has now begun making
clingfire
and other weapons for him. There are rumors—unsubstantiated at present—of his past use of lungrot, bought from a renegade circle. All the smaller neighboring kingdoms are in a panic over his recent expansions. He may be angling to eventually bring the battle home to us here at Hastur. Or he may be content with what he has. Whichever, he is now to be reckoned with in the overall balance of powers. Will he use the weapons at his disposal with restraint? We have no way of knowing.”

Listening, Taniquel thought,
Rafael will not provoke Deslucido into outright conflict. He should have struck before Deslucido gained access to
clingfire.

The time would come when Rafael Hastur would have no choice, when Deslucido must be stopped. Taniquel felt certain of it.

After a long discussion of which Towers were making
laran
weapons and where they might be used, particularly the stockpiling of bonewater dust in Valeron, the council adjourned for the day. More meetings were planned later in the tenday, as well as evening festivities. Taniquel thought wryly that no matter how dire the cause for bringing Hastur cousins together, they could not pass up the chance for a rousing good party.

Flushed from dancing, Taniquel made her way to the double doors thrown open to the mild summer evening. The veranda outside gave way to gardens, their leaves silvered by the mingled light of mauve Idriel, blue-green Kyrrdis, and pearly Mormallor. Tonight, three of Darkover’s four moons formed a rough triangle in the sky.

Behind her, the musicians had shifted to a lively
secane.
It was just as well she’d chosen this time to slip away. Her aunts would be watching the men whirl and leap in the wild mountain dance and would not notice her absence.

Beyond the gardens, she rested her gaze on the lights of Thendara and wondered how many other families were celebrating on this night. At least she was not so far advanced in her pregnancy, her belly yet a small bulge in the skirts of her gowns, that she could not enjoy an evening of the more sedate dances.

Sighing, she leaned on the balcony railing. A soft, cool breeze ruffled her hair which had pulled loose in tendrils about her face. Her thoughts wandered toward Neskaya Tower.

Was Coryn even now gazing up at those moons? Was he thinking of her?

Ridiculous idea!
He was far away, studying to become a Keeper. In all probability, he’d forgotten the few days they’d spent together.

Taniquel dipped her head in greeting as Darren-Mikhail Elhalyn approached. “It’s a beautiful evening, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I’ve always loved this season. My tutors used to say that there were more conjunctions of the moons at Midsummer than at any other time.”

“Oh, really?” she said lightly, for want of any more intelligent comment.

She regarded him more closely, noticing the awkwardness of his stance, as if he didn’t quite know what to do with his hands and elbows. “I’m afraid that if you’ve come to ask me to dance, you must wait for a bit. Whether it’s the night or my—right now, I’m too warm for dancing.”

“Actually, I was hoping for a quiet word alone with you.”

Taniquel startled. Darren had hardly spoken two words to her at the council meetings. “Whatever about?”

“Please, can we not sit down?” He took her arm and guided her toward a low stone bench in the shadows beyond the light streaming from the ballroom.

Taniquel allowed herself to be escorted to the bench. She told herself she had no reason to be uneasy. He was her cousin, after all, and there were plenty of people just inside the room. As soon as the
secane
ended, her aunts would doubtless come looking for her.

She settled herself on the bench, facing half toward him, and arranged her full skirts. He lowered himself awkwardly. Instead of releasing her, he grasped her hand.

“Please, cousin,” she said, deftly extracting herself. “If there is something you would say to me, you must speak frankly. We may not be well acquainted, but our families are, and I remember you from when we were children here together.”

“I would not speak of us as children, but as man and woman,” he blurted out. “Taniquel—if I may be so bold to use your name—surely you must have noticed the effect you have on me? You are so beautiful—”

“Darren,” she said as firmly as she could, “the moonlight is very beautiful, but please refrain from anything which will embarrass either of us tomorrow morning. Even if we were not kin, I am a married woman, and with child.”

He moved closer to her in the shadows and his voice took on a new, disturbing resonance. “We are not so closely related that we cannot marry, and you are a widow.”

“But—”

“A widow bearing a child who will need a father’s name.”

“Need a father’s name?” Taniquel said, stung. “What are you saying?”

“Why, what should be obvious to anyone who can count the passage of moons and knows when Acosta was taken. You were pledged to the Deslucido heir, were you not? And you lived in the castle with him for at least a tenday.”

“He never—I never—”

Thoughts raced through her mind. Darren was right. By now, everyone knew she was to have wedded Belisar and it was not uncommon for such marriages to be secured by a premature bedding. In the custom of the mountains, that in itself would have constituted a marriage—the sharing of a bed, a meal, a hearth. Who would believe that was not the case?

“I will swear under truthspell this child is Padrik’s son and heir,” she said.

“Sweet lady, I am not your enemy. Indeed, I lay my heart at your feet and offer you an honorable way to restore your reputation. Let me give your son a name and a place in the world. Marry me.”

Taniquel stiffened involuntarily, drawing away. “My son already has a name—his father’s. And he has a place in the world—the throne of Acosta. I—” she paused, realizing how ungracious she sounded. Darren was not Belisar, and she could hear in his voice that he truly cared for her, or whatever glamorous image he had concocted of her. He might be
nedestro
, but he had been acknowledged and granted a place in Elhalyn.

“I appreciate what you are offering, Darren. Truly I do. You will make some woman a fine husband and I hope she cherishes you as you deserve. But I am not free to marry to please myself—”
Would that I were!
“—I am called to a greater duty, to free Acosta and see my son placed on the throne there.”

Silence answered her, broken only by the sound of Darren’s harsh breathing. Finally, he said. “You are all that is good and noble in our caste,
domna.
But you take on too much for any mere woman. What will you do, raise an army to march on Deslucido? What man will follow you? No, you will only fail and risk your son’s future as well as yours. I beg you not to make this terrible mistake.”

“Let it be, Darren. I do not know if I will succeed, only that I must try. I have come this far with the blessing of the gods. I must trust they will grant me the means to do their bidding.”

She rose to her feet, skirts rustling. “Would you be so kind as to escort me back to my kinswomen?”