The Eternal Rose Page 4

  Adara had restricted trade with Daryath since early in Serysta's reign. Traders were advised not to leave the coastal trade cities to enter the interior. The desert land bordered by mountains could be deadly to those unfamiliar with its natural hazards. The religious fanaticism of the inhabitants could be just as dangerous. Most traders heeded the warnings because the coastal trade was profitable enough, but those who did not—few of them returned. Daryath wanted the visit to open trade again.

  Until now, Kallista had always declined to leave Adara. In the early days of her rule—and didn't the sound of that still make her uncomfortable—the last remnants of the rebellion had needed crushing. Then the Barbs had proved as stubborn and elusive as they had been through the long centuries their heresy had persisted. And Kallista had feared putting herself out of reach of news of their missing ilias and child. Now, however—

  "Thank you, Cousin. We will consider it. Perhaps this year, we will come.” She shifted into the role of cordial host. “Have our people treated you well? Your chambers are comfortable?"

  "Yes, Your Majesty, most delightful.” Thalassa gave a small bow-ofgratitude. “I have everything I could need or desire."

  "Excellent. You will dine with us at the high table tonight, of course. And come to us tomorrow after lunch, to meet our—” Kallista stumbled over her words. She really shouldn't say “children” before this disapproving Southroner, cousin or no. Obed had only given her one child. “Our son. We will have pastries and cha, and time to hear news of family."

  Thalassa's face almost unbent, almost found a genuine smile, but didn't quite. “I look forward to it, Your Majesty."

  She departed and Kallista had a moment of space to catch her breath. She turned to the others, but before she could open her mouth to speak, Joh did.

  "I'll get the packing started and speak to the generals about the escort.” He'd been a lieutenant in the Adaran infantry, and was an organizational genius.

  Kallista frowned at him. “What escort?"

  "We are not going to Daryath without a troop escort,” Torchay said. “A big one."

  "Did I say we were going to Daryath?"

  "Didn't have to.” Fox winked a sightless eye at her. “You're not the only one who can pick things up through the links. Not after this long. Our sense of you may be dim, but it's definite."

  "I'll get the children organized,” Aisse said. “Keldrey and I.” After four children in seven years, her figure had softened, but her fierce mother-tiger attitude was still the same, as was her short-cropped gold-blond hair.

  "You're not takin’ them to Daryath.” Keldrey's outburst wasn't quite question, nor exactly protest, but something in between.

  "I'm not leaving them here,” Kallista returned. “You weren't with us till after, the last time we separated. I swore then we'd never split up like that again, and we won't."

  "You didn't have me then. I'm not marked. I can stay here, keep ‘em safe, and not mess up the magic."

  "And what if, while we're gone, the demon comes here?” Kallista didn't want to think about it, but she had to. “No one here can protect against demons but us. If they're with us, we can keep them safe."

  "Even if we're riding into a nest of demons?” Leyja sounded as skeptical as Keldrey.

  "Even if,” Torchay said. “We're better off together."

  "Are we riding into a nest of demons?” Stone asked.

  Kallista took a deep breath. “I don't know. I haven't dreamed any. Gweric hasn't seen signs of them either. But the demon departed here riding Merinda. It could have left her, but what if it didn't? This is the first hint of either demon or Merinda we've had in six years. It could be coincidence that we get this news the day I make up my mind to take the battle to the demons, but somehow, I don't think so."

  "Where did the murder knots come from?” Torchay looked at Obed. “Could they have been brought here, across the mountains?"

  Obed inclined his head, acknowledging the possibility. “Daryathi politics are often deadly. I have not heard, myself, of such a thing, but my own involvement in politics tended to be both less frequent and more ... direct."

  "So.” Kallista surveyed her iliasti, catching the gaze of each one, as well as sifting through the feelings the links gave her. “We are agreed? We go to Daryath to see whether this is our ilias and our child, and whether the demon is still with them."

  Not all of them nodded, but they all agreed.

  "When do we go?” Joh asked, his eyes already far away, seeing what lay inside his head as he calculated lists of supplies and personnel. He snagged a quill from the nearest worktable and a scrap of parchment, his waist-length queue sliding forward over his shoulder as he stretched to reach it.

  "Within the week, if possible."

  "Let's say on Firstday next. Quickest route south that's possible.” Joh made his first note to himself.

  Kallista clapped Torchay on the shoulder. “Come, bodyguard. Let's go break the good news to the Daryathi delegation."

  Chapter Three

  Sun beat down on the caravan jingling along the dusty road. Leyja tucked the cloth that veiled her face against the fine gritty dust more securely beneath the wide-brimmed hat she wore to protect from the fierce rays of the sun. Her skin, like that of their other northern iliasti, burned red in mere moments under this Southron sun, even as summer waned.

  But the Tibrans and even Joh and Viyelle turned brown after the burnt skin flaked away. Only Leyja and Torchay with their red hair, and oddly, Kallista, though her hair was nearly as dark as Obed's, continued to burn without ever tanning. The need for protection was a nuisance, but at least Leyja could easily shed the loose robes she wore against the sun if she needed to fight.

  She sent her gaze sweeping across the family group again, counting children. Leyja considered it a gift of the One that they had traveled so far and not lost any. The journey down the Alira River to the wide Taolind at Turysh and on along the great river to the sea had been marked by enough “accidental” plunges into the water and forbidden explorations ashore that Kallista had been forced to cobble together a sort of magical leash to use on the wild creatures.

  It allowed her to pinpoint the location of each child with only a moment's thought, kept them from straying more than ten paces from their bodyguard or nursemaid, and set up an alarm if any tumbled into danger. During the sea voyage along the eastern coast from Ukiny to Kushma in Daryath, it had alerted them when Omri had goaded his same-age sedil, River, Aisse and Fox's son, into the rigging ten paces above his bodyguard. That was merely the most alarming incident.

  After that, Kallista had tightened her warding and the adults had heightened their guarding.

  The rest of the voyage had been—relatively—peaceful, as had the journey by horseback along the Iyler, the great river of the south. This time of year, in fall, the river was too low for even the local lightweight reed boats once they left the coast.

  The size of their caravan had kept bandit attacks away, though sneak thieves had been tempted by its richness. The regular troops had been kept busy guarding the wealth. The bodyguards’ duties had been lighter. Leyja's own rest had remained undisturbed during the entire journey. But that did not alter her vigilance, especially now, as they neared the Daryathi capital city of Mestada and the end of the journey.

  Leyja was a bodyguard. First and foremost, she protected those in her charge, with her life if necessary. She had done it well when it had been mere duty, but now, when she did it for love—She shook herself all over, like a horse shaking away flies, banishing the fear that any harm would come to these.

  Many Adaran women joined the army as a way out of poverty, a way to succeed and advance and live well, if not wealthy. Few of them joined the ranks of the bodyguards because the training was difficult and the life was risky. That was why Leyja had done it. To prove that she could.

  She'd been too tall and too thin in her girlhood, and book learning had been difficult for her. The only thing she had was det
ermination. Because she refused to give up when things got hard and because eventually, her body filled out and learned to do what she demanded of it, Leyja had become a bodyguard. She had moved up rapidly, becoming bodyguard to the Reinine herself.

  At that moment, when the Reinine had held out her hand in greeting and smiled, Leyja fell in love. She had loved Serysta Reinine with a pure and silent love for a double hand of years. The day that love blossomed, when Leyja had learned not only did Serysta love her in return, but that she wanted her in the same way she wanted Keldrey and the others was the day Leyja learned what joy truly was.

  And the day Serysta Reinine died in her arms was the day Leyja learned about pain. It was also the day Leyja was marked by the One and she learned the consolation and comfort of God. Gradually the numbness and grief wore away and Leyja woke to realize she loved again.

  It wasn't the same wild emotion, with the ecstatic highs, bottomless lows and desperate passion, because Leyja wasn't the same. Those she loved were different also—save for Keldrey and she'd always felt as much amused exasperation as affection for him. This love didn't burn. It warmed. It healed. Even the passion she'd found with Aisse comforted rather than consumed.

  Perhaps it was because the object of Leyja's passion and the object of her devotion were not the same. Leyja loved Kallista in a different fashion than she loved Aisse. Kallista was Reinine. She was naitan.

  She could forge the metal of their magic into any tool that was needed, from shield to healer's needle to sword. Then she could take that magic and twine it around and through the marked ones without even touching—though it was better when they did touch—and make them scream with the pleasure of it.

  And then there were the children.

  Leyja's gaze passed over the children again, always moving, registering everything as she scanned their surroundings. The grain fields were stubbled dun after harvest. Other fields looked to be covered with rows of dead, brown, snow-filled brush. Harvest-ready cotton, according to Keldrey, who'd grown up in the warm southern plains of Adara.

  Between road and river, the fields held sway, even as they neared the city. To their right, away from the muddy river banks, the cottages and homes of farmers and small villagers gave way to large sandstone-andgranite estates. The workers in the fields were servants now rather than owners of the land.

  The sand-colored walls of Mestada loomed before them. The Daryathi government, abetted by the diplomats Kallista had had to bring along, wanted them to camp outside the city walls overnight so they could enter the city in a grand processional parade. Kallista had refused.

  She would parade twice around the city tomorrow if they liked, on her way to meet with the en-Kameral, but tonight would be spent in the comfort of the Adaran embassy. Or rather, the mansion next to the embassy that had been hurriedly purchased and added to embassy property in preparation for the Reinine's visit. The previous embassy would never have held all the people she brought with her—the troops and bureaucrats, diplomats and bodyguards, not to mention the Reinine's entire family.

  The primary reason for Kallista's refusal, the one she hadn't shared with the Daryathi, was that she did not want the children exposed to public scrutiny. No one could miss a caravan the size of this one. Everyone would know who entered the city. But with their faces veiled against the pervasive, invasive dust that coated everyone—ruler, soldier and servant alike—it would be more difficult for an enemy to mark who was who. And tomorrow, during the processional—only once around the city—the children would stay safely tucked inside their quarters.

  Leyja spurred her mount, riding alongside the Reinine's duty bodyguard—Jondi, today—to be first behind the troops through the gate. It was dark and cool in the deep, long shadow beneath the thick city wall, and smelled of sand. Once inside, the troops kept marching, following their Daryathi escort to the embassy. Leyja and Jondi stopped just inside the gate to watch for threats as the Reinine and her family came through.

  The three oldest girls—Kallista's twins and Aisse's Niona, born during the rebellion—perked up as they entered the city. The younger children were waking with the noise, save for year-old Lissta, sleeping in Aisse's arms. Nothing short of a gunpowder explosion would wake her once she slept, and sometimes Leyja wondered if that would. Sired by Keldrey, Lissta felt more truly Leyja's than any of Aisse's four.

  Leyja was smiling, her gaze moving on to the massed bureaucrats coming through the gate behind the family, when an anomaly registered in her mind. Something was different about the children. Was it something wrong?

  She scanned back over them, urging her horse forward, alongside. There. Rozite had a necklace dangling halfway down her sturdy child's body, a large, faceted red globe pendant on a heavy gold chain. It might have been glass, but it wasn't.

  Leyja had been present when the infant Rozite had latched onto the walnut-sized ruby as a toy. Serysta Reinine had insisted she keep it. Lorynda had a matching sapphire and Niona an emerald. Serysta had always been fair. But the other girls weren't wearing their necklaces.

  With a sigh, Leyja pushed her horse though the troop escort. “Rozite Varyl Reinelle."

  The girl jumped at the sound of her full name and title. Guilt flashed across her face before it vanished under false innocence. “What, Mami Leyja?"

  "What have you been told about wearing that necklace anywhere but in quarters?"

  Rozite hid her face behind a too-long fringe of sun-bleached hair. “I don't know,” she tried, before giving up the attempt under her Fifth Mother's stern gaze. “Not to wear it."

  "So where should it be?"

  "In the luggage.” Rozite's shoulders moved dramatically up and down as she drew breath. “But Mami Leyja, the luggage is all packed up on the mules. I can't put it there."

  Leyja held her hand out to Rozite. Who looked at it, then looked up at Leyja as if asking why she was doing such a thing and what she expected Rozite to do with her hand.

  Leyja crooked her fingers, beckoning. “Give it to me, Rozite. You knew you weren't supposed to wear it, and you did it anyway. Now it's mine."

  Rozite clutched the big stone to her. “Not forever."

  "For now. We'll decide how long some other time.” Leyja beckoned again. “Give it here, Rozite. Now."

  "I don't want to. I'm the Reinelle. I should wear necklaces."

  "Now, Rozite.” Leyja reached to take it off her and finally, reluctantly, the child pulled the chain over her head and laid it in Leyja's hand.

  "You're a Reinelle, not the Reinelle,” Leyja said as she tucked the necklace into a thigh pocket. “You have eight sedili who are all Reinelles just like you. You're special because you're Rozite Varyl. Not because of who your birth mother is. You don't need a necklace to make people notice you."

  Rozite didn't look particularly comforted by Leyja's lecture. “But I like it. It's pretty."

  "It is. And you can wear it again in quarters when you can remember that that is the place to wear it."

  "When we get there?"

  Leyja hid her smile at Rozite's attempt to avoid penalty. “I don't think so. Your parents will discuss it and we will let you know."

  "Why do we have to have ten parents to be mean to us?” Rozite's lower lip shoved forward in a pout.

  "You think just four would be any nicer?” Leyja made a mock-fierce face and got a smile from the girl. “We'll get there soon. Try to act like a Reinelle until we do."

  "Yes, Mami Leyja.” The agreement came out on a heavy, put-upon sigh, but it was agreement.

  Leyja eased her way back out to the edges of the caravan, wondering just how far they were going to have to travel through the city to get to the expanded Adaran embassy. A long way, most like. The government house, where the en-Kameral met, was at the heart of the city, like the Reinine's palace in Arikon. But the Seat, as the building was called, was not also a residence. The homes of the Hundred Lines were arrayed around the Seat of Government, with the various governmental offices and the embassies
interspersed among them. To reach their destination, the Reinine's caravan would have to traverse half of Mestada. Leyja didn't know how far that was.

  The streets were narrow, forcing the caravan to stretch out, riding no more than two abreast along much of the way. Occasionally, a low stone bridge would take them across one of the canals that interlaced the city, exposing them for a moment to the open. Leyja didn't like it, nor did any of the other bodyguards. She could tell by the way they sat their mounts, the way their hands rested near their weapons. At least they were relatively safe from attack from above. Most of the streets were shaded by awnings stretching from one side to the other.

  Even where the streets widened into a sudden square with a well or trickling fountain for the locals to obtain water, poles held up the awnings to provide shade from the sun—and hide them from anyone lurking on the flat roofs or the upper floors of the buildings. Most of the buildings in this sector of the city rose no more than two stories, and many were only one. Though, ahead in the city center, Leyja could see a few tall, sharp towers punctuating the skyline.

  As they passed through a market square that seemed to be devoted primarily to flowers and fruits, someone bumped against her horse. Leyja would have thought nothing of it—the square was crowded with shoppers—but afterward, her balance had changed, just a bit. The necklace was gone from her pocket.

  Instantly, she went beyond alert to that bodyguard state of awareness, cataloguing every person in the square by level of threat. Was this the beginning of an attack on her family, or merely theft? People stared at their passing, but with curiosity, not malice. Mostly, they went about their business.

  There. The youth walking away toward the fountain, adjusting his clothing as he went. Slightly better than rags, they were not the sort of clothes one fussed over.

  "Stop!” Leyja cried, using one of the words she remembered from Obed's language lessons. “Thief!” she shouted in Adaran. She pointed at the boy—man—his age didn't matter—and set her horse after him.