The Nemisin Star (35 page)

Caltian and
Krikian attended to lists with Kismet’s assistance and someone
shouted for a file, another snapped about there being no time for
coffee, never mind wine - it was a hive of activity and voices.

The level of
noise would aid him.

Rillinon was
at the bigger table, marking off against a list. It could be
stores, names, places - Tristamil did not care. “Rillinon,” he
murmured, leaning over the Elder’s shoulder. “I need a word,
please.”

“Of course, my
Lord,” Rillinon said, looking up in surprise, but rising from his
seat at the table.

“In private,”
Tristamil added and led the way, leaving the bemused man to
follow.

He entered one
of the offices off the meeting room, found it empty, and firmly
closed the door once the Elder entered as well.

“Sit, please,”
he said, gesturing at one of the chairs in the small and cluttered
space.

The day-to-day
business of running a royal household was achieved from these
offices. There were files sporting suppliers’ names, files of
outstanding accounts, credits due … distracting, but it would
suffice.

“Rillinon,
this is between us.”

The Elder
rubbed his chin. “My Lord, your father …”

“My father
cannot know we have spoken.” Rillinon was evidently reluctant.
“This concerns my father and he will have your head if you repeat
what I say, whether to him or to anyone else. I am not trying to
frighten you or place you in an untenable position, but I need your
help and you are the only one who can. My father needs your help,
Elder, but he would never ask.”

Rillinon paled
and lids came down over his yellow eyes. For a time he sat in
silence, thinking of possible implications, none of them good, and
Tristamil did not push.

Finally
Rillinon nodded. “It will be between us. How can I help?”

He had the
opportunity. Gods. He was uncertain how exactly to broach the
subject. It was a sensitive issue for Rillinon and, if voiced
incorrectly, could draw an entirely negative response. He had to
avoid that.

Tristamil’s
fingers drummed on the untidy desk and stilled. He drew his chair
closer to the Elder. “I am concerned about the bloodline, the
heir-to-be …”

It was not
what Rillinon expected. “As are we all, but why speak to me?”

“I am asking
your permission to court your daughter.”

Rillinon’s
mouth opened and closed. “For an heir?”

“Yes.”

“Forgive me,
but it is no secret you appear to have feelings for young Skye.
Where does my daughter fit into that?”

“Skye is
human, Rillinon, and my father has made it clear I cannot take her
to wife.”

“You would wed
Mitrill and love another?”

“I would not wed at all if I had any choice.” Tell only the
truth, Tristamil’s inner voice murmured.
One lie, and this man will have your hide
.

“Are you
asking my permission to get her with child?” Rillinon’s voice grew
shrill.

“Keep your
voice down.”

“She is no
ordinary …”

“I know she is
Dante’s daughter.”

Rillinon
paled. “You know?”

“She is safe
from Tymall, Elder.”

A stare, and
then a nod, but Rillinon was unhappy.

“I know
Mitrill is a year or two older than me. Who she is makes her the
perfect mother for my heir.”

“Perfect?”
Rillinon said, not caring if he placed himself in great danger.
“You would make the daughter of Vallorins mistress to a Vallorin,
mother to a Vallorin, without the formalities? While you love
elsewhere? Eventually marry elsewhere? And, besides the shame of
such a thing, you must remember you are kin!”

Tristamil was
as calm as he could be under the circumstances, which was not much
at all. Nerves roiled in his belly. “She is my
great-great-great-whatever-niece-cousin, Rillinon. We are kin, yes,
but there is no profane law against the union. I made certain. I am
sorry, truly, to spring this on you in this manner, but I do have a
sound reason and if you would grant me a chance to explain …”

Rillinon’s
expression was tight. “I hope you have a sound reason, my Lord, for
I have no liking for this conversation.”

“You would be
opposed?”

“She deserves
a husband, one who loves her. She is beautiful and intelligent and
has a glowing future ahead.”

Tristamil was
silenced. The Elder was right. He was right as a father, as a
Valleur, and simply as a man. Rillinon had honour, and Mitrill
deserved it as well. In making her less, he, Tristamil, denied his
own honour, and that of his father.

Skye was on
the mark about reputation in this.

His head sank
into his hands as he thought it through. He discarded one scenario
after the other, for there were only two options. One, sleep with
the daughter of Vallorins and dishonour her, or …

“I shall
forsake Skye and I shall wed Mitrill if you grant me her hand, I
swear to you.” His heart constricted, but his voice never
wavered.

Rillinon
stared at him, knowing how much that cost. “What of love, young
Tris?”

Love would
desert him. Love would not understand. “Many Valleur marriages are
made for political reasons, Elder, and many of those couples find
love. As you said, she is beautiful and intelligent; with time we
could love each other.”

“She deserves
everything.”

“My father
deserves everything.”

The Elder’s
face reflected shock. “What has Mitrill to do with your father? I
am sure he is concerned over the bloodline, but he would never
entertain this union without due consideration. This is Dantian’s
line, young lord. There is much involved in joining two Valla
threads together. I would be prepared to do so if you loved my
daughter, and if she loved you, but that is not the case.”

“You are
right, and I am aware there are ramifications.”

“Your father
has to give his blessing.”

“My father
does not know my mind on this, and cannot know. Yet this concerns
him directly. In fact, it concerns his life.” Tristamil leaned in
closer. “My father aims to die physically to fight the final battle
with the Darak Or in the invisible realm.”

Rillinon
gaped.

“My father has
learned the secret to overcoming Margus, but it can only be
achieved beyond the natural boundaries.”

“Gods, why?”
Rillinon moaned and Tristamil gripped his arm.

“Listen to me! Margus is a reincarnate, like my father, and
will never cease his pestering of the Vallas and the Valleur unless
he is stopped
before
he can return to the natural world we live in.”

Rillinon was
frozen.

“Thus my
father will end his time with us and move on, and we shall mourn
his passing.”

“Indeed,”
Rillinon was stunned. “It will be a day.”

“Do not be so
accepting! Help me fight this! It need not be that way. If a host
is readied before his passing, he can return to us quickly, or we
may wait millennia for him to find his way back. I simply cannot
wait, Rillinon. The Valleur have an advantage over other potential
hosts, in that our unborn are aware in the womb.”

Rillinon had
drawn back; he began to understand where Tristamil headed. It
shocked him as much as the initial demand for his daughter’s hand,
although nothing could equal the shock of discovering his
Vallorin’s intentions. The Valleur would founder at this stage
without the Enchanter.

“If Mitrill is
pregnant with a son, you will have created your father’s host, as
Margus used your brother.”

“Margus is
evil, Elder, and should not be lumped with my father.”

“Forgive me.”
Rillinon did not sound sorry - he did not like this.

“But that is
the intention. As Margus used Tymall’s awareness in the womb, thus
I aim to do for my father.”

“I cannot
imagine my Vallorin agreeing to this.”

“No, but I
love my father and would not see him vanish from my future for even
a day. I will convince him and bring him back to us.”

Rillinon
stared at the young man, shocked, confused, and somewhere in that
mixture of emotions was anger as well, the righteous anger of a
father for a daughter who could be misused.

“Rillinon,
Mitrill will carry a valid heir and she will return my father to
Dantian’s line.”

“And what will
this do to her?” Rillinon burst out. “To sleep with a man who
doesn’t love her, merely seeks to use her body for procreation, and
then to carry a child, raise a boy, who will one day awake as your
father? Goddess, her son will also be her uncle, a man millennia
older than her and thus it will be for you also! Dare you love this
child knowing who he is to be? Dare you love him as a son or will
you regard him as your father from the moment he is born? No,” and
Rillinon shook his head, “your father will deny you this and then
everyone gets hurt.”

“The
alternative is to die waiting into bloody eternity for a man we
love beyond all others to return to us!” Tristamil drew a breath,
saw that his words impacted, and pressed on. “I will marry Mitrill
and love her as far as I am able, and after this child we will have
others, one of whom may be named the true heir.” Tristamil
swallowed and continued. “My father won’t desire to be Vallorin
under those circumstances, we both realise that. From the beginning
we will make it known who the child is …”

“That poor
innocent! You would do that to a child?”

Tristamil
closed his eyes. “I do not want to lose him, Rillinon, and he
cannot now be swayed from his current path. Margus has indicated
the battle will be fought beyond; that destiny is set. I would
sacrifice everything, including Skye, including peace of mind, to
see my father return as quickly as possible.”

Rillinon’s
face twisted with understanding, but he whispered, “My Lord,
forgive me, but you sound almost obsessed.”

“I had to hide for twenty-five years. And now he will leave.
I have had
no
time to know him!”

Rillinon
lowered his head and gave a sigh.

“It may come
to pass that my father is able to separate from a host as Margus
did from Tymall,” Tristamil said in a more even tone. “Perhaps it
is possible to love the child in his own right.”

The Elder
released another sigh. “How will you convince your father to accept
this dubious gift?”

“I will find a
way.”

“How do you
know it will work?”

“I would
rather be prepared and fail, than sit on my hands, Rillinon.”

“If I were to agree with this …” Tris slumped and Rillinon
raised a stern eyebrow. “
If
I agree to this, I said - how soon will Mitrill
need to be with child?”

He had reached
the man. “Days.”

“No courting?
No formality? In real terms you want me to ask her to spread her
legs for you!”

“There is no
call to be crude.”

“What you ask
is crude!” Rillinon burst out and covered his face. “I am sorry, my
Lord.”

“I
understand,” Tristamil said in a stretched voice.

“Mitrill
doesn’t know her birthright.”

“We met
earlier today,” Tristamil said, and Rillinon stared at him. “I am
afraid trebac gave it away.”

“My poor
baby.”

“My father
told her the truth; she would not wait for you to be called to the
Temple.” Tristamil sighed. “He will summon you soon to tell you, I
suspect. You cannot let him see that you know what he intends to do
with Margus, and you cannot reveal what we have discussed
here.”

Rillinon rose. “I won’t say a word, but … my poor girl, so
headstrong … and she is hurting. I must go to her. You may come
also and we shall present this to her. If, only
if
, she agrees, are we to discuss
this further. Agreed?”

Tristamil rose
and discovered he was shaking. “Agreed.”

Even in utter
darkness is the path present.

~ Book of
Sages

The Keep

H
e had promised to talk and to tell
her as much as he was able to.

Before the
appointed hour Torrullin went to Saska, unwillingly, for she could
boil his blood with one look, and he required logic to face her, as
she would need it to listen and hear.

Torrullin
found her pacing their chambers - she probably wondered if he would
keep his word - and he opened his mouth to speak, and abruptly
could not stomach the confines of walls. He asked her to accompany
him to the battlements and she acquiesced, despite the storm. Her
gaze was thoughtful, and he wondered how much she already
guessed.

They climbed
the stairs in silence, and by the time they pushed the door at the
top open there was a madness upon them, which the storm fuelled and
intensified. Logic would not be supreme this night.

Saska turned
and it was so dark her features could not be seen, but there was an
awareness that caused her to be clearer to him than the most
blinding light could reveal. He reached for her, pulled her close,
held her to him, one hand entangled in her hair. He did not attempt
to kiss her and she did not ask it of him.

You are going to leave me
,
she stated into the silence of the night and
storm.

Yes,
he sent back.

Is there no
future for us, Torrullin?

No, my
love.

Is it that woman?
Her grip on him
tightened.

No.

It is the
Lady.

It is many
things, among them a new timeline. Even so, we cannot go on like
this.

She frowned.
Timeline?