Proudly, he stood nude with legs braced
wide apart, letting them see the white-hot brand on his thigh. “The White
Dragon marked me.”
“How is this possible?” Nijar whispered,
his face pale as he stared at the mark. By the look on his face, the man would
murder every single person in his tribe to get the same chance. “You even smell
like roses.”
“She walks in Dreams. She came here to
me in a vision and marked my body for all to see.”
Gana narrowed his gaze suspiciously,
worried that another
tal
had taken
the lead in the race to be
azi
.
Deliberately, Mykal detoured the
tal’s
displeasure. “I don’t want her to
know which
tal
she marked.”
Gana’s mouth fell open as though he’d
formulated an argument, only to be startled into a stupor by his opponent’s
quick surrender. “What do you mean?”
“She’s afraid.” Mykal smiled at the
memory of her terror as she’d fled his blood. “Yet she believes she now has
some power over me.” Indeed, she thought the opposite, but the
tals
didn’t need to know the true gift
she’d given him. “If she’s confused about which of us actually bear her mark,
then she’ll be too busy trying to puzzle it out to notice our treachery before
the noose is sprung and the White Dragon is ours.”
The older
tal
still frowned, gripping his ear and tugging nervously. “How did
she find you? Will she walk in my dreams next, or Nijar’s?”
Mykal spread his hands and shrugged.
“She’s the Last Daughter. Who knows what magics she may have? We must be
prepared for her to touch our dreams individually in effort to single us out
against each other.”
“How will she not recognize you?” Nijar
asked. “Or perhaps I should say, how can we mask your identity?”
“She never saw my face,” Mykal replied.
“However, she knows my scent. I propose that a select few of you temporarily
wear my oil, at least a dab on your throats to release my scent.” He paused,
letting the silence tell them that he would consider carefully who he’d allow
to wear his oil. It was rather unusual among the Keldari. Gana’s mouth actually
flattened as though he’d tasted something sour. “She’ll definitely recognize it
but be terribly confused when more than one of us smells of sandalwood.”
She
won’t be pleased to realize she betrayed that weakness to me
.
His White was fierce indeed and so incredibly brilliant in strategy. He must
cast the net wide for the
tals
, and
plan his own route very carefully indeed.
His purpose hadn’t changed, not exactly.
He would still grasp the moon in the palm of his hand. Whether he would take
the left or right hand path thereafter, he didn’t yet know. Death waited on all
sides, cloaked in Shadow.
Again, he felt that sense of tumbling
through the night sky, wings bent awkwardly, painfully twisted and broken. He
fell, too fast, the ground rushing up to meet him.
So much depended on her, whether she was
named truly as Daughter of Our Blessed Lady of Love.
:Run,
brightheart. Run to your Shining Walls and cower behind your nine Red ponies.
This time, I’m coming to mark you as mine.:
* * *
DRESSED IN THE SIMPLE WHITE nightgown
she no longer needed,
na’lanna Qwen
sat on the edge of her bed. Her wordless request to draw near brought all nine
Blood to kneel before her. Dharman claimed his spot at her knee with Sal
opposite him; the rest fanned out before her, all eyes locked on her.
“I have a…”
“Aye,” they all replied in unison.
Her mouth curved wryly and she shook her
head. “You haven’t heard my request.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Dharman replied,
and the rest nodded emphatically. “If you ask, we shall do, without question.”
He felt reluctance in her mind, the
beginning of a door trying to shut on their bonds. Heart pounding, he held
himself still instead of surging forward to fight. Despite the physical
intimacy they’d enjoyed, it was still terribly tempting for her to withdraw and
shut down, so very difficult for her to remain open and vulnerable to them. If
she closed herself off, they had no chance of surviving the coming
kae’don
.
The door creaked back open and he
breathed a sigh of relief. Sal sagged against her knee and cuddled his head on
her lap.
Stroking Sal’s hair, she looked at each
of the other seven Blood waiting eagerly for her command. “Do you all…”
Her cheeks colored, and Dharman suddenly
knew why she’d nearly shut down again.
She had finally realized the truth about
her nine Blood. He would fall to his knees before Rhaekhar and swear eternal
gratitude to him if he ever reached the Tenth Camp. He didn’t know what her
mate had told her, but she certainly saw them all in a new light.
“Never mind. I already know the answer.”
She sighed softly, and Dharman felt the war within her, perhaps greater than
any physical battle she’d ever fought. Her great gift, and her great weakness.
“
Na’lanna
Blood, all nine of you.”
Nine warriors pressed closer, desperate
for a touch, a word, any tenderness from the woman for whom they’d sacrifice their
last drop of blood. She touched Jorah’s cheek, Lew’s chest, down the line, a
boon to young warriors who’d ached for her to see them, really see them, for
years.
“I can’t promise you all access to my
bed, but I can promise you access to my heart. I will never lock down your
bonds again.”
Dharman shared a quick nod and glance
with each warrior, confirming he would do whatever in his power as First to
clear the way for each of them. If she wanted, he would provide, even if she
was reluctant to admit that desire to herself.
“I need you all to watch me very
carefully.” She kept her trembling hand in Sal’s hair, but she dropped her gaze
to the floor. “There’s a Black Dragon in my Dreams and he’s coming to
Shanhasson with a vast army. I know he’s Shadowed, and…” She swallowed hard,
forcing her gaze back up, her shoulders squared and strong. “He bears my mark.
I carry his blood.”
Pale, she met each warrior’s gaze. “If I
begin to slip into Shadow…”
“You won’t,” Jorah retorted with enough
vehemence that her eyes flared with surprise. Normally silent, the golden Blood
pushed closer and bowed his forehead against her knees. “I won’t let you slip,
na’lanna Qwen
. My bond is your anchor.”
“Aye,” each Blood swore, again straining
closer to touch her.
“Thank you, my Blood.” She let them
nearer yet, crowded around and desperate for a touch, a whisper, and she gave
it. Dharman shared a smile with Sal that was very nearly teary. They’d waited
for so very long for her love.
“I have a plan. Let’s discuss it and
make sure there are no weaknesses. I can’t do this without you. We must act
quickly, for a Keldari army is encamped on the Far Illione border. My guess is
that they’ll cross into our Green Lands today if I don’t do something. I can’t
possibly stop them with force, even if Khul is able to bring every single
warrior by dawn tomorrow. Depending on how quickly the Keldari travel, they may
reach Shanhasson first.”
“Never,” Dharman said, confident in his
people’s prowess. “Khul will beat them to Shanhasson. None compare to our
na’kindren
. They’ll fly to your aid,
na’lanna
.”
She shivered and forced a smile. “No
flying, but yes, I hope they come quickly. I know I can hold the Keldari out of
Shanhasson; the Shining Walls are as powerful and pure as ever. No taint has
weakened them as during Theo’s reign. Yet I can’t leave the savages to destroy
every village between the border and us.
Kae’Shaman
gave me the clues I needed. Remember what we did on the Great Seal at Dalden
Bay?”
Great Vulkar, Dharman would never forget
it. That had been the first time she’d deliberately used him in her battle
against Shadow, a fond, bittersweet memory to hold through the long years
waiting for her to need him again.
“I’m going to need all nine of you this
time. If you’re willing.”
Grinning widely, the other Blood nodded,
jostling each other to prove their willingness to be first to offer
na’lanna Qwen
their blood. Dharman had
to laugh at the look on her face. Through her bond, he glimpsed an image of him
and Sal on either side of her in her bed, while each Blood came to her, one by
one, and endless line of need.
Aye, he could make that wish a reality.
For now, he merely snapped his fingers
to quiet them, drawing her gaze to him. “Last time, we broke Shadow’s hold on
the earth.” He reached up to the high neckline of her gown and undid the tiny
buttons one by one so it hung open down to mid-chest. She barely breathed as he
folded back the white cotton, opening it enough to bare the gleaming marks on
her shoulders and the upper swells of her breasts. He wanted all to see those
marks on her body, especially a certain Black Dragon. “What will you do this
time,
na’lanna
?”
She smiled, and chills raced down
Dharman’s arms. He felt the wellspring of holy water bubbling within her, as
eager as her Blood to answer her Call. “This time, we muzzle the dragon.”
* * *
FATHER JOSEF AND ANOTHER PRIEST waited
for her beside the Great Seal with the Rose Crown held between them on its
plaque. Dread tightened her chest. The last time she’d worn that crown near the
Great Seal, she’d experienced a horrible vision of Lygon lying trapped in His
prison deep in the earth. The light had died in the ivory
rahke
, as though the battle had been lost, even with Theo’s body
cooling beside her.
Pounding footsteps drove the Blood
tightly about her,
rahkes
out, a wall
of muscle that she couldn’t see around. Dharman was at her back, Sal at her
front, her living armor. For them and their honor, she’d deliberately left the
chainmail in her room, but the thought of one of them throwing himself into the
path of an arrow or cross bolt to save her sent her heart galloping into her
chest.
:Peace,
na’lanna
,:
Dharman murmured in her mind, the red
glow of his bond filling her with love.
:Someone
must have alerted your Council. Two arrive in great haste to make sure they’re
present.:
Grimacing, she had yet to figure out who
was spying for her Council. They obviously paid someone to alert them
immediately of her activities. She couldn’t stop their spying, but if she knew
who watched so carefully, she could deliberately leak information to her
advantage.
“What’s the meaning of this?” King
Challon tugged on his fine coat as he raced into the High Court, his shirttails
fluttering behind him like wings. “Since when does the High Queen gallivant
about the Palace at midnight?”
The Blood parted but Dharman stayed
tight at her back. King Challon’s eyes widened at her apparel, or lack thereof.
Phillip of Maston stared at her chest and paled so quickly he swayed on his
feet. Calmly, she waited while the two men stared at her nearly bared breasts,
glanced at the Blood behind her, and then flushed beet red.
How interesting that the one man who
feared her so very much arrived with the political mastermind behind her
opposition. “Gentlemen, since when does the High Queen of Our Blessed Lady’s
Green and Beautiful Lands answer to anyone about what she does, whether in
Shanhasson or beyond?”
King Challon spluttered, but she turned
her back on him and faced Father Josef. “Do you know what I’m going to
attempt?”
“I suspect,” Father Josef admitted,
smiling sheepishly. “As soon as your Blood came with your message, Our Blessed
Lady began smiling with approval.”
“What?” King Challon dared to step
closer despite the glower of her Blood. “What will you attempt?”
Some of the tension straining in her
shoulders released. If Father Josef thought the Lady approved, then hopefully
this would work. Ignoring the Council’s bluster, she took several deep breaths
and then gave a nod to the priest. Moving his lips in silent prayer, Father
Josef inclined his head toward the Rose Crown, so she carefully placed it on
her head. Nothing immediately happened; she hadn’t experienced a vision since
the first time she’d worn it. However, she’d never worn the Rose Crown and
stood on the Great Seal at the same time.
Waiting for his signal, she emptied her
mind into the Silver Lake, pushing all her fears and doubts beneath the smooth
surface. Wisps of fog danced across the mirrored surface, cloaking the moon,
but at least it wasn’t thick, black shadows. Thinking of Shadow, though,
brought her awareness of the black bond she now held in her mind. She had the
foolish wish that the Black Dragon’s blood bond would simply disappear if she
ignored it hard enough.
He
hid deep within, a black snake coiled and still, waiting to strike.
If she stepped onto the Great Seal,
would that black thread bleed darkness and despair into her mind? Would it
provide an even bigger target for Lygon to use against her?
She gripped Gregar’s ivory
rahke
in her hand, blade hidden tight
against her wrist, and she wished she could cut that black hole out of her,
even if she had to carve her heart out of her chest.