Scarlet and the White Wolf [02] - Mariner's Luck (22 page)

Lindolanen and Nadiushka had married very young, two princes drunk with love and joy, and it had lasted all of three blissful years before he was killed on a snow bear hunt, torn in half by the beast's claws before his pain-mad horse dragged his blood over the snow. Nadei was too young to remember and Liall had still been in Nadiushka's belly. The Queen almost had the snow bear stricken from the Rshan coat of arms that day, but forestalled. She did do it, years later, after another tragedy involving the same type of beast struck the royal court again. The snow bear had ever been unlucky for his family. A curse, some say, though Liall did not believe in such things any more than he believed in magic.

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Nadiushka was seated on a lesser throne made of dark wood and silver, set on a polished wooden dais with three steps that served as her informal audience chair. She tapped her slippered foot, indicating that Liall should sit upon the wide platform of the throne, up the steps and near her feet.

Liall obeyed, and she regarded him searchingly.

"The man I married after your father died has died himself," his mother said.

Liall had known this from the time he left Volkovoi. "I never much liked Lankomir," Liall said casually, knowing that his mother shared the sentiment. Lankomir, Lindolanen's half-brother, was father to Vladei and Eleferi. Their mother had been a southern princess, now dead, and Lankomir had been an unpleasant, dull-witted man, greedy and prideful.

Lankomir had, however, given Nadiushka a child: Cestimir, the boy whom she planned to make king.

"He is dead," she repeated, seeming pleased to say it.

"This you know. Now, what you do not know: you do not know that Cestimir is fit to be king. I have kept him close to me since his birth, and I have watched him, and he is worthy."

Liall bowed his head shortly, accepting his mother's words.

To his knowledge, she had never been wrong about anything.

He was not going to start doubting her now.

"At fourteen, he is yet still too young to rule, and too inexperienced," she said. "The latter will pass quickly once he begins to take charge of the realm. What you do not know is that there have been several attempts on Cestimir's life since 190

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my ... my second husband died. There can be only one cause for this."

"Someone does not want him to inherit the throne."

"And you do not have to look far to guess who that someone might be. They are all within these very walls." Her brittle smile was small and endlessly bitter.

"Are there any you suspect more than others, my mother?"

She looked at her hands. "Must I say it?"

"You must."

Her eyes glittered. "I have known them since they were boys. How could they?"

Liall had no answer for her, but he still needed to hear it out loud. He must be sure. "Vladei and Eleferi?"

Her stepsons, Cestimir's own half-brothers. She nodded wordlessly, taking deep, steadying breaths with her hand fluttering near her heart. Bhakamir was instantly at her side, silently offering her a clear vial that contained some pale liquid or medicine. She waved him away.

"But ... you are
ill,"
Liall said, suddenly alarmed. He had never in his life seen his mother sick. "Why have you not sent for Melev?"

"He has been," she sighed. "There is nothing he can do.

Even
he
cannot stave off death forever."

By practice, Melev was an Rshani healer, but he was more than that. He was the culmination of a genesis that began the Rshani race as Liall knew it. Melev was not a Shining One, but neither was he quite mortal.

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"He should be by your side—" Liall began, but her chin came up and the old, fierce light was in her eyes.

"I need no crutch!"

Indeed she did not. Queen for over a hundred years, and more than half that time she had been forced to reign alone or with a powerless consort at her side.

She counted on her sons to relieve her of the burden, Liall thought, but we both failed her, I most of all.

Liall struggled to speak. It had been so long, so many years ago, yet in front of his mother it seemed like yesterday...

Nadei's sword broken on the tiles, kneeling with his hand pressed to his side, and that white look of shock on his face as the red blood poured out from under his palm and down his leg, a bright lake forming about his knees while their mother screamed and screamed...

"Forgive me, Mother," Liall whispered starkly. He could not look at her. She was silent for a moment, and then he felt her warm hand on the crown of his head.

"Nazheradei, I forgave you the day I banished you."

Liall held back from weeping like the child he suddenly felt to be, but only just. They both retreated to their corners of silence and she withdrew her hand. He ached for that touch, but he had no rights anymore, no claim on her love.

She sighed. "You must have guessed why I sent for you."

Liall nodded. It had been obvious. That did not mean he had to like it. "I don't know how much use I can be. There will be few nobleman who will side with Cestimir, and with me, none."

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"You are wrong to think that, but no matter. It's not a question of persuading them to side with me or with you or even with the side of justice or the good of Rshan. No, we have only to convince them that their own interests will not be served by supporting Vladei, and that Cestimir is the more profitable choice. Once they are made to see that, we will have them." She clenched her bony fingers into a fist.

"The way to a baron's heart is through his wallet," Liall quoted wryly. "I remember your lessons, Mother." He shrugged. "But the barons also remember. They remember me. They remember Nadei. I may do your cause more harm than good."

She shrugged and clasped her hands in her lap. "And yet, you are my only hope. We must both do what we can. It is my duty to Cestimir and your duty to me. Will you shirk that?"

Liall shook his head. "You know I will not. I am yours to command."

She finally gave him a real smile, the first one he had seen from her since his boyhood, years before he left Rshan. "My son, I knew that before I sent for you."

Liall could not answer.

She regarded him with her too-wise eyes, noting every new scar, every line in his face that was not there when he left.

"You have prospered among the lenilyn?" She shook her head, not waiting for him to answer. "Of all the lands of Nemerl, child, why the Southern Continent? Why not the 193

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jeweled empire of Hiberna, the exotic island kingdoms of the Serpent Sea? Why that desolate and accursed place?"

"Exile is intended as punishment. I would not have it said that I used my prince's title to escape my doom and seek comfort from the kings of the west."

Her chest moved up and down with a steadying breath.

"We only learned you were alive and in Byzantur five years ago. I have suffered much, knowing you spent so many years in that place. Tell me ... how did you make a life there?"

"By becoming one of them," Liall said simply. "The people there are as varied as anywhere on Nemerl. They have honor and good in them, but also greed and savagery and pettiness of heart." Liall ducked his head. "I fear I found my place with them in the seedier circles of the Kasiri bandits, but it was not a bad life, all in all. There were many people I was fond of.

Also, the little Hilurins are not the sly demons our legends make them out to be." He looked up at her guardedly. "It was a life," he repeated. "A simpler one than I had growing up. All my enemies come at me with knives instead of smiles, and they are not half so clever to hide what they feel."

"So life is easier for you out there."

"I wouldn't go that far."

She smirked in amusement, but her eyes were barbed. It had always been this way between them, this easy and bantering manner that hid so many thorns and hurts. Liall had not missed this part of their relationship at all.

"And yet," she went on "there are comforts."

Liall knew what she meant, or rather, whom. He nodded.

"How is he called again?"

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"Scarlet," Liall supplied, repeating it for her twice.

She tried it out, pursing her lips over the feel of it. "What does it mean, precisely? It is not a Bizye word."

"Not from the known tongue, no. I believe it is part of the northern dialect from the river towns. It means simply red, albeit a very pretty shade, the color of carmine or a deep red rose."

"Or of blood."

"Do not say such things," Liall begged, remembering his dream of the bear hunt and Scarlet's body covered in blood.

"Alas, morbidity has become my habit." She was silent for a moment, then; "Why do they call him that? He is not red."

"I think it is a poetic appellation, something to do with a spirited nature."

"Ah," she said archly. "Now we have it. And do you find him spirited?"

Liall remembered Scarlet in the Volkovoi alleyway, facing down two armed bravos who were twice his size. "Yes."

"Raja," she said. Crimson. "That would be his name in Sinha, yes?"

"Somewhat. But do you know the little flame flower that grows by the sea? And the red color of its petals, and when we say a person is fiery, they are
keriss
? That is closer to it, I think." Liall did not think her questioning odd. Names were very important in Rshan.

She slapped her hands together very softly, glad to have it settled. "That is his court name, then: Keriss
kir
Nazheradei."

She tilted her head. "How did he come to be so recently scarred?"

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"On the journey that brought us here," Liall said shortly.

"Ah," she said archly. "This would have happened aboard the ship, then."

Liall sighed. "Yes, madam, but since you already know how it happened, I fail to comprehend why you trouble yourself to question me about the matter."

"Perhaps because I wonder that you would expose someone you profess to care about to such danger. Was the experience with the mariners not enough proof for you? And yet, still you brought this Hilurin child to our shores, knowing what could happen. Why?"

"What else was I to do?" Liall snapped. "Throw him overboard? The journey was already well underway, and he is, as you said, young and inexperienced. I could not just abandon him on some distant shore." He withheld the other information: the matter of Cadan's killing and Scarlet's possible death-sentence in Byzantur. "Scarlet is my t'aishka.

That settles it," Liall finished.

"Keriss
kir
Nazheradei," the Queen corrected.

Liall nodded and did not argue, not even at the kir designation, which would be a part of Scarlet's protection here. To Liall, his lover would always be Scarlet the red-coat, the pretty, impertinent, too-proud pedlar scowling and refusing him a kiss. His spirit lightened just to think of it, and she saw this and softened.

"Your t'aishka is very beautiful, very charming and rare."

Liall thanked her, though it was only the truth, then he saw that she was trying to be tactful. "Say what you must, madam. You've never had difficulty before."

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"He is very young, is he not? And uneducated, and a lenilyn, and a peasant. The people will not like it, Nazheradei .

The nobles will not."

"Then they can choke on it."

She laughed, tossing her head like a girl. "My Nazir," she said, giving him his baby name. "So stubborn you always were. So proud and confident, never caring what others thought of you. You always went against the winds. If there was a rule, you broke it. No propriety was safe in your presence."

"Mother, I would love him if he were a prince, too," Liall pleaded. The fire crackled lowly over his protest and the blue light of the crystal lamps threw a glow on them like the moon over water. It had grown very late. "I do care what some people think, you know," Liall admitted. "I want you to like him."

"I know, but I will make up my own mind on this account.

He will not sit at the High Table just yet. That is too much favor for a foreigner whom I know nothing of."

"Except that I love him."

"Your heart is your province, my lord, but I rule here."

"And you accuse me of pride, Mother?" He heard the haughty tone in her voice and knew it was pointless to argue Scarlet's virtues with her. All royalty had its blind spots. He risked putting his hand in hers. "Will the Queen inform what she requires of me?"

Nadiushka straightened her back, and Liall could see her mentally preparing herself for what lay ahead. His mother was as iron-willed as ever. He felt a flush of pride for her and 197

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knew that, no matter what happened or what it cost either of them, she was determined to see Rshan safe.

* * * *

Bhakamir escorted Liall to the outer chamber. Behind him, Nadiushka slumped pale and shrunken in her chair, one hand covering her eyes. They had talked for hours, plan upon plan, allies to be trusted and those to be feared and yes, even those who would have to be eliminated if the worst happened.

No milk-lily maid, her. Though Liall knew she loved him and loved Cestimir, sometimes his mother frightened him. At times, she could melt his heart with her kindness, and then she could turn around and be as ruthless as any general on a bloody battlefield.