Sacrifice (Book 4) (24 page)

“You are the best and brightest of all women I have ever known, and please understand that if circumstances would have been different, you are just as beautiful to me as your daughter and I would be just as happy and fortunate to wed the First Mother of Rhugoth. I would have loved you no less, Mirelle. Do not think that just because I love the Chalaine, that I do not love you. Earning the love of one beautiful woman is good fortune; earning the love of two is a peculiar kind of torture.”

Mirelle wiped her eyes. “I am sorry if I made this harder on you than it should have been.”

“Don’t apologize,” Gen said. “I only grieve to see you alone. I owe you everything, and I want to see you happy.”

“Then marry my daughter. I am a mother, Gen, and I am no longer the first concern of my heart. I will take great joy in seeing her happy, especially knowing all the trouble and sorrow she has passed through with Chertanne. That said, do know that when you see me crying at your wedding, most of the tears will be for my daughter, but some few will be for me.”

“One last kiss, then, before you become my intimidating mother-in-law?”

“I hoped you would ask.”

To spare them both, Gen kept it short. He pressed his forehead against hers for several long moments, breathing in her scent, before pulling away and leading her forward. They walked in silence, winding around a low, tree-covered hill until they found the pavilion that Maewen had spoken of. It provided a good view of the surrounding area, the moons’ hazy light playing evenly over the trees. The lights of the packed town and the manor house were bright pockets in the darkness. They sat together, Mirelle leaning on his shoulder while they waited.

“Any advice you want to give me about your daughter before I marry her?”

“She has matured a great deal this last year,” Mirelle said. “I think you are wise enough and know her well enough that any advice I give you would be redundant. I really have no charge to give you other than to make her as happy as you can, and I don’t believe you need to do much more than be yourself to do it. She trusts and loves you completely and will be overjoyed to take your hand. She will at last get to do what was promised to her at her birth—marry the best of men.”

“She is coming,” Gen said, rising as he felt her near.

Mirelle stood as well, straightening her dress and peering into the darkness. The Chalaine, Maewen, and Gerand crested the hill, mother and daughter racing to each other and embracing, crying for joy. To Gen’s surprise, Gerand approached him and extended his hand.

“Well met, brother,” he said, smiling. “It is good to know that the best swordsman on Ki’Hal has returned in these difficult times.”

Gen took the hand, surprised. “How did you know?”

“Your disguise isn’t that good, though without the scars you aren’t nearly as frightening as you were back then. The Chalaine also told me of your return, but I knew before then.”

“Do Volney and Dason know?”

“No,” he said. “Should we inform them?”

“Not yet. My condolences for your father. He will be missed.”

“I don’t have words, Gen. They burned him, just like they tried to do to the First Mother. If I didn’t have responsibilities here, I would ride for vengeance now.”

“We will make this right, Gerand, I. . .”

Gen turned just in time to catch the Chalaine as she leapt his arms and clamped onto him. Gen wrapped her up.

“I knew you would save her,” she said, “I just knew it. Thank you.”

“You are welcome,” he returned. “It’s good to see you again. I missed you.”

She moved in close to his ear. “We need to be alone so I can take this veil off and give you a proper welcome.”

Gerand cleared his throat and they turned to find everyone smiling at them sloppily.

“Why Gerand,” Mirelle said, “there was no need to interrupt them! I think it was just about to get more interesting. But we do have a lot to talk about and to do. Let’s sit for a moment. Gerand, I understand that you know who Gen is. I will let you stay to hear this if you will swear that if you cannot support what we are about to do, that you will at least keep silent on the matter.”

“I swear it.”

“What do you intend to do, mother?” the Chalaine asked. Gen intertwined his fingers with hers.

“We intend to take back Mikmir in a rather unorthodox way,” Mirelle explained. “I’m afraid it involves you getting married to someone famous and a lot older than you.”

The Chalaine’s fingers dug into Gen’s hand. “I will not marry anyone except for love, mother! How could you even think I would consider. . . Why are you all smiling?”

Mirelle asked, “What if that person was Gen, dear?”

“I accept.”

“And would you still accept it if Gen was impersonating Aldradan Mikmir?”

“What?!” Gerand and the Chalaine said at once.

“You heard me.”

“I would marry Gen if he were a gong scourer, but why Aldradan Mikmir?”

As the First Mother explained her reasons, Gen watched the Chalaine carefully, trying to gauge her reaction to the plan he and Mirelle had carefully put together over the last two days. She had lived her entire life with the weight of expectations upon her, and probably wanted nothing more than to fade into a life of safety and solitude with those that she loved. As her mother talked, the Chalaine leaned into him, her grip tight and her posture tense. She was frightened.

Mirelle continued. “Once Gen is on the throne as Aldradan Mikmir, and with you at his side, we should have enough support to put a good force into the field to see if we can stop this travesty. I can see Mikkik sending an honored and delighted Athan into Elde Luri Mora flanked by the nobles from three kingdoms. What a great laugh Mikkik will have when Athan destroys us all.”

Maewen broke in. “Gen, do we know what will happen if he uses the sword there? Lady Alumira heard Mikkik say it was the destruction of Ki’Hal, but how, exactly?”

Gen thought for a moment. “In lore, Elde Luri Mora is the heart of Ki’Hal, the place from which Eldaloth’s life-giving force flowed. When we were there, did you note the eternal blossoms on the trees? Once they bore fruit. When Mikkik struck Eldaloth down, Elde Luri Mora and the world still lived, but the holy place was wounded in the same way I wounded Mikkik. It is an injury that has no power to kill, but no power to heal, either.”

“I saw the difference between the world before Eldaloth was struck down and after,” the Chalaine added. “Aldemar showed it to me. Before Eldaloth died, the world was marvelous and vibrant, and it was a feeling more than anything, a vibrancy that filled Ki’Hal. If Elde Luri Mora is what is left of Eldaloth, then destroying it will be dire in scope, I am sure. Its existence has tormented Mikkik for centuries, but he needed my blood to finish it, and I gave it to him. Perhaps it would have been better that I died than let him take my blood as he did.”

Gen pulled her in close. “He would have had his blood one way or another. He was willing to bleed every living creature on Ki’Hal dry until he had enough essence to do it. This is our chance, now. That sword can destroy Elde Luri Mora. It can also destroy him. It will be out in the open during their journey, so it’s time to turn the tables on Mikkik and do to his caravan what he did to ours. They wanted the Chalaine. We want the sword. I will lead what army we can muster in the next few days and take them east to do it. Mirelle and the future Lady Mikmir will remain safely in Rhugoth while I get this done.”

“Lady Mikmir,” Mirelle smiled. “I like how that sounds. It is settled, then. Tomorrow Gen will become Aldradan Mikmir. Maewen will work with him to get the details of his clothing and armament right. The rest will be up to Gen. Remember, Gen, that you were to be a bard. It’s time to review your lessons on theatricality and performance. You’re about to put on an act like the world has never seen, and we need a virtuoso performance on the opening night.”

“It is bold, and it is cunning,” Gerand opined, “but time is your biggest enemy. There is only one Portal close to Echo Hold, and as soon as the Church gets wind that there is a rebellion in the offing, they will guard that Portal with everything they’ve got. Even if the word gets out that Aldradan Mikmir wants to muster men, a week will hardly be sufficient to organize everything, especially with most of the armies scattering and going home celebrating. Getting Mikmir under our control in that amount of time would be difficult. And why the need for the wedding? Though I can see it is a desired event.”

“The wedding serves a number of purposes, besides the obvious one of bringing two people together who love each other together,” Mirelle answered. “At the very least, I hope it will draw some of the leaders away from the Procession of Glory, sparing them whatever horrific end Mikkik has in mind. Given the choice of a four or five day journey through the wilderness or a wedding celebration of a legend returned from the dead, we are hoping more than a few will choose the wedding. This will give us an opportunity to persuade them and get their support.

“Besides that, the massive influx of people through the Portal will make it nearly impossible for the Church to control it without causing a rebellion. If we can get the leadership to bring soldiers with them, then we will have the force ready to march.

“But your point about time is well taken, Gerand. The fighting for the Portal to Echo Hold we cannot avoid, and I fear it will be bloody, but I hope to take Mikmir without shedding any blood whatsoever.”

“How?”

“Aldradan Mikmir will simply walk in and ask for it back. When he rides through the streets of Mikmir with the Chalaine at his side, a mob will follow, and I am betting that the Church will not want to dampen these festive times by engaging in a bloodbath of innocent people. Gen assures me he is powerful enough to make them miserable for trying.

“If all goes well, the wedding will take place in five days, and Gen will march the sixth day. There will be blood on the streets of Tenswater, but that cannot be helped. Once through the Portal, they ride hard to catch the Caravan.  This all begins tomorrow, and we will be working through the night to prepare. Now, how stand matters with Regent Feldebrinne?”

“He is still wavering, I’m afraid,” the Chalaine answered. “We’ve worked at him all afternoon, but he fears repercussions to his estate since a Portal to Tenswater is nearby, and I can’t blame him.”

Mirelle sighed. “I’ll see what I can do. If I fail, then a personal visit from Aldradan Mikmir may be in order. Now, let’s leave Gen and the Lady Alumira together, since I don’t believe the marriage proposal has been properly made yet. I have given Gen my consent to marry my daughter earlier.”

The party broke up, the Chalaine hanging onto Gen until they left. Gen tried to calm his mind. Impersonating a legend would prove taxing, and he hardly knew where to start. But he tried to push his concerns aside as a beaming Chalaine lifted her veil and greeted him properly as she promised. During all the planning with Mirelle, he had failed to even consider that he would need to ask the Chalaine to marry him in some proper manner. Since her first marriage was forced upon her, it would be doubly important to impress her.

“Well?” she asked, face expectant. “Don’t you have something to ask me?”

“Lady Alumira. . .”

“You know,” she interrupted, “the
Lady
on the front of the name makes it much too stuffy. Just call me Alumira like you did back in our canyon days together.”

“Very well. Alumira, when I look back over the past two years of our acquaintance. . .”

“And I don’t want some long, sloppy speech, either. Your actions toward me have said a thousand times more than words ever could about your feelings.”

He knelt before her. “Alumira. . .”

“Stand up for pity’s sake!” she said, this time without mirth. “You will never kneel before me. Ever.”

A little flummoxed, he stood and took her hands. “Will you marry. . .”

“Yes, of course I will. What took you so long?” she joked, greeting him properly several more times. “I’ve waited so long! This will be the best night of my life.”

“Just a few more days, Alumira, and you’ll be back home and be a proper Queen, just as it should be.”

“Not exactly correct,” she said, lowering her veil and guiding him away from the pavilion. “I will be home in a few days and a proper Queen in a few days, but I will be a married woman tonight.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” she said. “That wedding will be a big show for the world. The wedding tonight will be just for us. Regent Feldebrinne’s Pureman lives just behind the manor, and I’m sure we can persuade him.”

“Are you sure?” Gen asked.

“Aren’t you?”

“I just thought that since things turned out so miserably for your first marriage that you would want something glorious this time, with a procession of knights and trumpets and screaming celebrants and a cake and good food and everyone telling you how beautiful your dress is.”

She laughed. “No. I just want you. You ride off to war in a week, and I will not spend another night alone dreaming of how I want it to be. If I dream of you, I want to wake up and make the dreams real. I have sacrificed, and I have been patient, and I have stifled my feelings, and I am done with it all. I have longed for you for what seems like an age, and I will have my way tonight.”