The prince and a large cavalcade accompanied the dowager princess as far as the border, and, during their last, solitary conversation, Gy took both her hands and looked down into her eyes. “My lady, you asked weeks agone if I loved any woman and I answered nay, but that is not true. I do love a woman. I love you and, did our laws not forbid such, you would be my wife, my princess—after all, I am less than five years your junior. But such can never be and I know it. Therefore, I charge you this: Send to me a sweet, loving maid like yourself, one who can come to love and comfort me as you loved and so comforted my dear father, and I vow to cherish her as I would have cherished you.”
Ahrkeethoheeks Bili of Morguhn had been as gracious and caring a host as she recalled from her childhood visits to the Hall of the Red Eagle, and such had been the attentions lavished upon her by his handsome eldest son, Djehf Morguhn, that she had felt almost embarrassed, before her acutely perceptive half-brother noted her discomfiture and found a convenient errand for his heir to ride forth upon. He then proved a veritable fount of information, all of which she found interesting, but it was not until they were closeted alone together within his grim little office at Morguhn Hall that he imparted the news which set her heart to pounding and raised tingling goose flesh on her body from head to toe.
“At our last meeting before his … shall we say, untimely death, I promised your late sire that, when he died, I would dispatch word to your brother, Tim. You should know that he and I have kept in touch over these last years and that, through me—though Tim doesn’t know it—your late father’s gold reached him.”
“Please listen to what I say and believe it, Giliahna. Your father deeply regretted his hasty and ill-advised actions in sending you and Tim away, but by the time he recovered fully from whatever drugs those harpies—your stepmother and her damned tongue sister—were dosing him with, the deed was irrevocably done. You were wedded and Tim, stubborn in his hurt and rage, refused to respond to what few letters Hwahltuh could sneak past those Ehleenee and out of his hall. For, understand you, Giliahna, your poor, ailing father was very close to a prisoner in his own duchy in his last years, spied upon when he was not actively guarded by his wife and her slut, his half-Ehleen brood and their adherents.”
“Giliahna, your father was born in a Horseclans yurt and was past middle age when he led his clan from the Sea of Grass. Your Horseclansman, fresh from the west, has an inordinate love for children, any children, but especially his own. You’d have to fully comprehend that fact to be aware of just how deeply your father hurt himself ten years ago. He was a proud man and strong, with more real guts than a whole tribe of mountain barbarians, yet many’s the time he has sat in that same chair and wept like a whipped child in his regret over banishing you and Tim.”
“Had he chosen to cleave to that thrice-damned perversion of a religion upon which Mehleena so dotes, he might have at least had the idiotic precepts of that faithless faith to console himself with. But Horseclansmen do not harbor this idiotic fear of interbreeding that the Ehleenee do; indeed, there is no such word as ahimomikseeah in all the Mehrikan dialects, though the High Lord Milo tells me that there was once such a word, centuries ago.”
“But, be that as it may, your father is gone to Wind, along with his sorrow. You are returned, and Tim soon will be.”
Giliahna clasped her hands tightly to keep them from trembling. In a painfully tight voice, she asked, “When, brother, oh when?”
The archduke smiled at what his uncommonly powerful mind could read in hers. “Two weeks, little sister, possibly three, depending upon road conditions. He’ll be bringing the Ruby Company, his condotta, down here with him. One of my men will make contact with him ere he crosses into Kehnooryos Ehlahs, delivering to him a pass from High Lord Milo countersigned by our own Prince Zenos. Once he’s here, of course, there’ll be no question about private troops, since Vawn is still considered a frontier duchy in some senses.”
He paused to drain his cup and refill both his and hers. “But I tell you all this in strictest confidence, sister. Be damned careful which if any of your retainers you tell, and be certain that you breathe not a word of it once you are at Vawn, to anyone, mind you. Your brother, Ahl, already knows, but don’t even discuss it with him, either aloud or by mindspeak, for Tim has plans for Mehleena, her litter and her folk and ‘twere better that they not be forewarned.”
Giliahna sipped her wine, “What sort of plans, Brother Bili?”
Bili cracked his big knuckles all at once. “I’m sure he’ll confide them to you when arrive he does. But I don’t know any details, nor do I wish to know them, lest I forget my duty to my overlord, Prince Zenos, who is Mehleena’s cousin.”
Geros had told him where to find her. In the wide corridor outside that room which, long ago, had so often been their place of love, he enjoined Sergeant Rai. “Draw you up that chair, old friend. Allow no one to pass into these chambers without my leave.”
In the sitting room, he surprised a small, delicate-looking Zahrtohgan girl brewing a spicy tea, the exciting fragrance of which filled the chamber. “My lord,” she began, “my lady is not yet arisen and she …” Then a tiny, brown-skinned hand flew to her dark lips and her soft brown eyes widened perceptibly. Smiling secretively, she shyly inquired, “You, then … my lord is my lady’s brother? The Duke Tim?”
At his nod, the girl’s smile widened, despite the tears coursing copiously down her dusky cheeks. “Oh … oh, my lord, oh, oh, my lady … so very happy she will be …”
Giliahna half-heard the chamber door open and half-knew that she should at least sit up and greet the sweet, faithful Widahd, but the other half of her was lost in erotically pleasant reveries of lying here, upon this very bed with Tim … so very long ago. Almost could she still feel his sweet lips pressing upon her own, almost feel his hands upon her shoulders, almost … The lips had withdrawn, but there was still a warm hand upon her shoulder, and so reluctantly, she opened her eyes.
9
“Mother, dear?” Ahl’s voice contained a larger than usual note of mockery and he fixed his blind eyes directly upon his stepmother.
Mehleena squirmed inwardly and her rage rose in proportion. She could not bear it when Ahl skewered her with those sightless eyes that seemed to be staring directly into her very soul. But before her rage could burst out in words, he had continued.
“Mother, dear, it were best that you have one of the carpenters reinforce another chair if you intend to dine with the rest of the family in future. In their present condition, I fear, any one of the less massive chairs would splinter under your lard-sow weight.” The blind man smiled broadly and Lady Mairee chuckled throatily, adding unneeded fuel to stoke the fires of Mehleena’s boiling anger.
But such was the fat woman’s ire that no words would come, only screams, hisses and stuttering. Ahl and Lady Mairee observed her briefly, then the tall man arose, extending his arm to the tiny young woman. “My lady, it is time we departed. This will be a very full day, I feel it.”
To his sorrow, Myron, too, arose at that moment. With all the force of her rage, Mehleena spun on her broad rump and sank her fist into his midsection, the pointy little knuckles penetrating the vee below the ribs, driving the air from his lungs and his just-eaten breakfast up into his throat.
While the unhappy young man gasped and choked, dribbling gobbets of chewed food and turning purple, Ahl never lost his sardonic smile. Shaking his head slowly, he said, “My, such fierce maternal affection. Wind be thanked that our dear mother does not treat me to her love taps. Little bum boy, you had best whack your lover on the back a few times, he appears to be strangling.” Then, both of them chuckling, he and his lady made their slow, stately way down the length of the dining chamber and out of sight, leaving Ahl’s stepbrother in his suffering and Ahl’s stepmother still hissing and spluttering in her impotent rage.