Authors: Jennifer Roberson
Alix put a hand up and pushed herself away from the wall, straightening her tired shoulders. “Enough of this. If you wish Homana reconciled with her Cheysuli forebears, you will have to begin with yourselves.” She glared at them.
“Yourselves!”
Carillon looked guilty. Duncan, mouth twisting in Finn’s ironic manner, nodded to himself.
Alix sighed and rubbed wearily at an eye. “I think they come. Here is Storr.”
The silver wolf came out of the shadows silently, feral eyes gleaming in the darkness. With him came Finn, who had a wide smear of blood across his jerkin and a victorious glint in his eye.
“You wanted me,
meijha
?”
“
Duncan
wanted you. And the others.”
Finn glanced at his brother, then frowned. He stepped close and examined the bloody slice in Duncan’s throat. After a moment he stepped back and raised his brows.
“Did you tangle, somehow, with an Atvian bowstring instead of an arrow?”
Duncan smiled. “An Ihlini garrote,
rujho.
”
Finn grunted. “They are ever troublesome. We should teach the Ihlini something, someday” His eyes belied the irony in his tone. “
Rujho…
you are not badly hurt?”
Duncan shrugged. “I am well enough. Growing voiceless, perhaps, but you may prefer me that way.”
Finn’s teeth flashed. “Aye,
rujho
, I believe I may.”
The others had gathered. Alix saw not a single warrior was missing. She wondered, in remembered horror, how many men lay dead at shapechanger hands.
“We will go in,” Duncan said in his broken voice. “We will go in and give what aid we can to Shaine the Mujhar.”
“How?” demanded Finn. “We cannot seek
lir
-shape so close to the Ihlini. And we can hardly scale the walls without being seen.”
Duncan gestured to Carillon. “The prince has said he can get us in.”
Finn’s face expressed doubt. No one else moved, but Alix sensed their unspoken disbelief. Then Carillon shifted against the wall and stood upright.
“You have little enough reason to trust me. It would be a simple matter for me to let you in and lead you into a trap of the Mujhar’s making.” He smiled grimly. “While I have not precisely been your enemy, neither have I been your ally.”
“I think we are in agreement for the first time, princeling,” Finn said in careful condescension.
Carillon, to Alix’s surprise, appeared unoffended. He smiled calmly at Finn. “You need my aid, shapechanger.
Mine.
”
Finn grunted. “I need nothing of yours.”
Carillon turned to Duncan. “I will get in, and then I will open one of the smaller gates. I leave it to you to rid yourselves of the Solindish guards.” He gestured toward the darkness. “It is but a short distance that way. I will meet you.”
He faded into the shadows. Finn spat out a curse between his teeth and looked as if he had swallowed something sour.
Duncan observed him impassively. “I trust him, Finn. He will do as he says.”
“He is Homanan.”
“They are not our enemy.”
Finn’s eyes narrowed. “Then what of the
qu’mahlin?
”
“It was begun by a single man, not by a nation. It can also be ended by a single man.” Duncan sighed and felt at his tender throat. “Shaine began it. Carillon, I think, is the man who will end it.”
“Do not speak so much,” Alix admonished him, then shot Finn a scathing glance. “Carillon expects us,
rujholli.
Should we not go where he said?”
He grinned at her and gestured with a flourish in the direction Carillon had indicated. When she did not move he shook his head reprovingly and went into the darkness. The others followed.
Alix turned away as the Cheysuli slew the Solindish guards. Her flesh crawled as she remembered the sensations in her when she had plunged her knife into the Ihlini’s back. She would have run from the renewed violence had Duncan not kept her by him.
As the last man died, the narrow gate swung open. Carillon stepped through. His leather-and-mail dripped with water, pooling at his feet. His hair was plastered darkly against his head, but his smile was subtly triumphant as he gestured.
“There is a culvert few know about. Now, through here, if you please. And you are well come to Homana-Mujhar.”
He led them into a small bailey, avoiding the larger one which opened onto the front of the massive palace. He paused as Duncan whispered to him, and waited as the clan-leader turned to his warriors.
“It would be better to go in separately, should the Mujhar
send men against us. Slay only if you must, for these men are not truly our enemies. When you can, make your way to the Great Hall.” He smiled at Carillon’s involuntary start of surprise. “Have you forgot, my lord, that Hale was my foster-father? I was here as a small child. I know this place.” He looked up at the dark bulk of stone. “A long time ago, I walked the halls and corridors with impunity. Shaine once called me by name and bade me serve him as well as Hale did.” His mouth tightened. “A very long time ago.”
Finn stepped between them. “But I was never here, princeling. I was left at the Keep. You may serve as my guide.”
Carillon turned away and moved toward the palace. The others melted away. Alix walked at Duncan’s side as they followed Carillon and Finn into the castle.
They went unaccosted, though the servants and guardsmen within the halls grew red-faced or frightened as they saw the Cheysuli. Only Carillon’s presence kept the guardsmen from moving against them, and Alix saw that Finn marked it. She wondered if it made a difference to him.
At last they reached the hammered silver doors of the audience chamber she recalled so clearly. She felt a shiver of remembered apprehension run down her spine. Shaine had frightened her that day, before he made her angry. Then she smiled as she called to mind the Mujhar’s terror as Cai swept into the hall.
“Borrowed glory,” Finn muttered. “Borrowed.”
Alix glanced at him. “What do you say? This place is magnificent!”
“This place is Cheysuli,” he retorted. After a moment his voice softened as he glanced around. “Cheysuli.”
Carillon thrust open the unattended doors. Alix would have gone through immediately but Duncan held her back. She looked at him in puzzlement, then saw his gesture toward Carillon. Understanding, she stepped back.
The prince entered the long hall slowly. He left a trail of water behind. For a moment Alix saw a vision of the tall prince forcing his way through the narrow culvert, and smiled. Then she went in with Duncan.
Shaine sat upon the throne, hands clasping the curving lion paws. His eyes stared broodingly into the massive firepit. It had died to coals and the hall was chilly. The Mujhar seemed to notice no one as they approached the dais.
Duncan paused at the firepit, allowing Carillon to continue on alone. Alix waited also, as did Finn. They watched as Carillon paced the length of the firepit and halted before the dais.
“You, my lord Mujhar, have been a fool,” he said coldly.
Shaine looked at Carillon. Slowly he rose to his feet, taller than his heir only by virtue of the dais, staring at him in amazement.
“
Carillon…
” he whispered.
“A fool,” Carillon repeated.
But Shaine was not undone by Carillon’s unexpected presence. He was a king before all else, and could still command a powerful presence when he chose. “You will not speak to me until you find the proper words of respect to your liege lord.”
The prince laughed openly. “
Respect.
You have earned none of mine, uncle.”
Shaine’s gray eyes glared. His voice dropped to the ominous tone Alix recalled so clearly.
“I will excuse your poor manners this once. Doubtless you grieve for your father, and you appear to have been poorly treated at Keough’s hands. But I will not hear such words from you again.”
Carillon smiled grimly. “My father is fortunate in his death, uncle. He does not face the knowledge that the Mujhar has failed Homana.
I
have to deal with that…and so must you.”
“You call me a fool!” Shaine roared. “What do
you
know of the things I have had to order these past months? What do you know of the harsh decisions I have had to make?”
“Safe within your walls!” Carillon shouted back. “
I
have been in the field with thousands of Homanan soldiers—some of them
boys!
What do you know of
that
, my lord Mujhar? You make the commands—we carry them out. And
we
are the ones who die beneath Bellam and Keough’s hordes, uncle—
not you
!”
Shaine’s face congested. “You would have me die, then, my lord heir? So you may do better in my place? Is that what you seek?”
Carillon was rigid. “I want Homana safe again, my lord Mujhar. And you alive to see it.”
Before Shaine could reply a quiet voice echoed down the hall. “And
I
want you alive as well, Shaine the Mujhar. Else I cannot have the pleasure of taking your life.”
Alix stiffened as Finn threw the words down the hall, moving to approach the Mujhar. Storr padded at his side silently. She sensed the wolf’s loyalty to Finn more strongly than ever before. She nearly went after them both, suddenly frightened, but Duncan kept her back.
“It is for him to do,” he said softly. “It is his
tahlmorra.
”
“He will
slay
him!”
“Perhaps. Be silent, Alix. This is for Finn to do.”
She clenched her teeth and turned back, hating the calm acceptance in Duncan’s broken voice. Like him, she could only watch.
Finn stopped before the dais. He waited.
Shaine stared at him. Color drained from his face until only a death mask remained. His lips were bluish; hands shaking. An inarticulate sound burst from his throat. Then he swallowed visibly and forced a single word between his lips.
“Hale.”
Finn laughed. “No. His son.”
“Hale is…slain…”
“By your order.”
“He had to die…
had
to…” Shaine stiffened before Finn and brushed a trembling hand across his staring eyes. “He had to die.”
“
Why
?”
Shaine blinked. “He took her away. Lindir. My daughter.” He swallowed. “Took her from me.”
“She
chose
to go. You drove her away, my lord Mujhar. You. Lindir left Homana-Mujhar of her own will, because she desired it. Because she desired a Cheysuli!”
“No!”
“Aye, my lord!”
Carillon stepped toward the Cheysuli. “Finn—”
“Silence yourself, princeling!” Finn snapped. “This is a thing between men.”
“Finn!”
“Go, princeling. You have served your purpose. You have delivered the Mujhar to me, as I have long desired.” Finn glared at him.
“Go.”
Alix started forward but Duncan’s hand inexorably drew her back.
Carillon turned again to his uncle. “This is
your
doing! Once the Cheysuli served Homanan kings more faithfully than any—now they seek only to destroy the man who ordered the
qu’mahlin.
Is this what you wanted?”
Shaine’s face was deathly white. His breath came hoarse and loud. “Hale…it is
Hale
…”
“No!” Carillon shouted.
The Mujhar’s face cleared and sense crept back into his blank eyes. He looked upon Finn a long moment, then reached out to point at the Cheysuli.
“I will not suffer a shapechanger in my presence. In my realm. I have ordered your race destroyed and I will have it done.
I will have it done!
”
The roar swept through the hall. Finn met it with a smile. “He was your sworn man, Shaine the Mujhar. A Cheysuli blood-oath. He fought for you, slew for you, loved you as his liege lord. And you had him slain like some crazed beast.”
“Finn,” Duncan said at last.
Shaine’s eyes sharpened as he looked past Finn and Carillon. His chest heaved.
“No.” He choked. “Not the Cheysuli…”
Carillon glanced at him. “My lord?”
The Mujhar’s breath was uneven. “I—will—not—have—Cheysuli—
here
…”
“It seems you have little choice, uncle.”
“I will not have it!” Shaine moved to the throne and drew a scarlet silk bag from its cushioned seat. He turned back to them with an expression of gloating triumph in his eyes. Slowly he poured glowing blue cubes into the palm of one hand.
Carillon stared. “The wards—?”
“Hale’s, given to me forty years ago…should I ever face harsh odds, There are no more in all of Homana.” Shaine swallowed as heavy color rushed into his face. “They have kept the Ihlini from Homana-Mujhar. It is the only thing. And I will willingly destroy them if only to destroy the Cheysuli!”
Surprising them all with his swiftness, the Mujhar moved agilely to the coals of the firepit. Carillon said something incoherently and leaped for him, grabbing for the outstretched hand clutching the blue cubes. Finn drew his knife and advanced.
But the Mujhar was too quick.
Blue flames roared up as the wards burned. Eerie illumination crept across Shaine’s tortured features. He stood stiffly before his nephew and Finn.
“I declared
qu’mahlin
on the Cheysuli twenty-five years ago,” he rasped. “It has not ended!”
Alix gasped. She saw Shaine look past Finn, and as his eyes fell on her face she saw loathing enter them.
“Shapechanger…” he hissed. “
Shapechanger
!” He drew a gasping breath and pointed at her. “My daughter gave her life in exchange for a
halfling witch!
”
Alix stared at him in shock and mute pain, stunned by the virulence of his hatred. Then Finn said something in the Old Tongue and lifted his knife to strike.
Carillon leaped, grabbing the raised arm. Finn spun to dislodge him but a garbled sound broke from the Mujhar’s throat and stopped them both.
Shaine fell slowly forward to his knees. His eyes remained locked on Alix, but his face was no longer that of a sane man. It twitched, discolored, and he pitched loosely onto the stones.
Alix was frozen in horror. She saw Finn standing over the Mujhar, still clasping his knife.