'This is the Key of the Sceptre, or the Ruler's Key,' Areava continued. 'It is one of the Keys of Power.'
'No!' Olio cried. 'Only Mumma has the Keys of Power. No one else can wear them!'
'That was true while our mother was alive. Just before she died she gave each of us one of the Keys.'
Olio blinked rapidly. 'Mumma's not dead. I don't believe you. She would have told me…'
'She gave you this Key,' Areava said, holding up the Key of the Heart.
'No,' he said.
'Let him touch it,' Edaytor told Areava.
She held it out to Olio, but he backed away from it. He ran into a wall and could go no further. 'Hold the Key,' she said.
He shook his head.
Areava took off the chain holding the Key and held it out to him. 'This is yours. I took it away from you. That was wrong. I am sorry. I want you to have it back now.'
'It was mine?'
'Don't you remember?'
Olio groaned. 'Sometimes. I think I've seen it before.'
'Do you remember what it feels like to wear it?' Edaytor asked.
Olio shook his head again. 'No.' Then, in a much deeper voice. 'Yes. My Key.'
'Give it to him now!' Edaytor hissed to Areava.
She slipped the chain around her brother's neck and stepped back.
The first thing Olio felt was that the Key fell against his chest in the same way a proper key fitted the right lock. It was where it should be. But almost immediately the thought was squeezed out of him as if a giant hand had suddenly gripped his brain. He shouted out, not in pain but surprise. He closed his eyes, and burned in the back of his lids was the vision of a terrible blue river, startlingly bright, searingly hot. He heard a word repeated over and over and he chased it down with his mind until he heard it loud and clear. 'No!'
And he screamed the word out loud and collapsed to the floor before either Areava or Edaytor could catch him.
CHAPTER 15
The Horse Clan warriors gathered in front of Daavis's rebuilt main gate. Eynon, standing beneath the gate itself, gazed on them with immense pride, the sentiment matched only by his immense sadness there were so few. Except for another two hundred or so warriors too seriously wounded to ride back to the Oceans of Grass, the four troops before him were the entire strength of what had once been one of the Chett's largest and most powerful clans.
And it will be again, Eynon told himself, as he had again and again during the terrible siege of Daavis. He heard the rumble of more horses behind him and turned to see Lynan and Makon riding ahead of several hundred more cavalry. The two men stopped by Eynon and let the force ride by. Eynon counted three troops of lancers and three of the Red Hands.
'I promised them to you,' Lynan said. 'You may keep them under your command for as long as you need them.'
'Thank you, your Majesty,' Eynon said gratefully. 'It won't take long to hunt down the Saranah war band. You'll have your warriors back by winter.'
'There is no hurry, Eynon,' Lynan answered. 'I was thinking you might want to do more than hunt down the war band.' He and Makon shared a secret smile. Eynon was not sure he liked that.
'Meaning?'
'Meaning that if you feel the urge I see no reason for you to stop at the edge of the Oceans of Grass.'
'You mean carry on to Saranah territory?' Lynan nodded, and Eynon already liked the idea. 'To do as I wish?'
'Completely. I remember I also promised to replace every head of cattle you lost. I will, but cannot do it before winter when the clans gather at the High Sooq, In the meantime, you might as well wreak a proper revenge.'
'You are returning to the High Sooq this winter?' Eynon could not hide his surprise.
'No. There is the rest of the Kingdom to win before I return to the Oceans of Grass.'
'Then who will carry your authority at the High Sooq?' Eynon asked,
'You will.'
'Your Majesty—' Eynon blurted.
Lynan and Makon laughed together. 'I told you he would choke on it,' Makon said.
'But what does Korigan say?'
'She is in agreement,' Lynan told him. 'She watched your clan four times assault the west wall of Daavis. She holds no doubts about you or your loyalty to my cause.'
'She even agreed to let me go again,' Makon added.
'Let you go?' Eynon asked.
'Makon knows the Red Hands,' Lynan answered for him. 'He has commanded them in his brother Gudon's absence and has proven himself in combat. Use him as one of your commanders. He can also vouch for your authority at the High Sooq. If those clans traditionally antagonistic to you doubt your word, Makon, being from Korigan's clan, will convince them quickly enough.'
Eynon could not help grinning. 'I would be happy to have Makon ride with me again.' By now the extra six troops had lined up behind Eynon's own. One thousand experienced warriors. With these, Eynon thought, I can carry the war far south indeed.
'Remember, you can take whatever action against the Saranah you deem fit.'
Eynon looked up sharply at Lynan. It was almost as if the prince had read his mind. 'The Saranah will wish they had never left their desert,' he said.
Jenrosa watched Eynon lead his combined force northwest from Daavis. They rode at an easy trot, confident and determined. Casually, almost absently, she licked the tip of one finger and used it to draw a line along the top of the stone parapet in front of her. She breathed softly over it. The only particles to move were made of red quartz. They scattered across the line, but almost immediately a soft breeze blew the other way sending the crystals back again. She was not surprised, but which of her imaginings did it fit? That was something no teacher could show you. One of her first instructors in the Theurgia of Stars had told her that the interpretation of magik was often no more than a test of someone's ability to fit the facts after the event; in other words, prescience was a matter for the gullible. She wanted to believe that, but she could not shake off what she had seen since joining the Chetts and taking instruction under Lasthear.
What Jenrosa did not know, and was afraid to discover, was whether or not her understanding of what her magik showed was the future, fixed and unchangeable, or a future that could be averted—or aimed for—through certain actions. The problem being that the latter seemed too much like prescience for the gullible.
She saw Lynan walking back to the palace. As he passed near her he paused but did not look up. He can feel me watching him, she told herself. We are connected so strongly. A moment later he continued on his way. She observed Chetts bow as he walked by them. She observed the locals bow even lower to avert their eyes from his, the children scampering behind the nearest adult. Lynan, obviously deep in his own thoughts, ignored them all. After Daamis had been taken there had been some looting, but Lynan had quickly stopped it and made sure only soldiers who resisted the occupation were killed. So far as conquerors went Lynan seemed less cruel and more lenient than many others in history. Nonetheless, the citizens of Daamis avoided him when they could; Lynan's appearance and reputation were enough to scare people.
'What are you now?' she wondered aloud. It occurred to her there was an even more important question. What am I now?
She knew she had no answers. For all her power at magik it was a hollow thing, nothing more than a conduit for more mystery and frustration than she would ever have believed possible as a bored student in Kendra all those years ago.
Wait, she told herself. Not years ago. Only a year ago.
'You are thinking of home,' said Ager's voice.
She looked to her left. God, for a crookback he could move quietly when he wanted to.