Lynn Flewelling - The Oracle's Queen

As much as she wanted to trust Lord Lutha, she dreaded the morrow. “Please, Dalna!” she whispered, pressing her hands over the slight swell below her bodice. “Let my child be spared. She’s all I have.”

Tomara had gone down for news, but came hurrying back, her face white with fear. “It’s that wizard, my lady! He asks to come to you. What shall we do?”

“Let him in.” Nalia stood by the hearth, bracing herself against the mantelpiece. Was this to be her answer? Would he quietly kill her or blight her child after all?

Master Arkoniel did not look very threatening. He was younger than Niryn and had a friendly, open face. She saw none of Niryn’s cunning in this one, but she had been fooled before.

He bowed, then remained standing. “Highness, forgive my intrusion. Lutha and the others told me something of your treatment here, enough for me to guess that you are a woman who has been grievously wronged. Niryn was a vile creature, and many of your husband’s less noble actions must be laid at that villain’s feet.”

“I would like to believe that,” Nalia murmured.

They stood a moment longer like that, sizing each other up, then he smiled again. “I think you could do with a nice cup of tea. If you show me where the makings are, I’ll brew it.”

Astonished and wary, Nalia watched closely as the man warmed the pot and measured out the leaves. Did he mean to poison her? She saw no sign of it, and when it was steeped he poured for both of them and took a long sip. She took a hesitant sip of her own.

“Is it to your liking, Highness? My mistress taught me to make it rather strong.”

“Your mistress?” she asked, wondering if he meant a lover.

“The wizard who was my teacher,” he explained.

“Ah.”

They fell silent again, but presently he set his cup aside and gazed at her thoughtfully.

“Did you kill Niryn?”

“I did. Does that shock you?”

“Not really. I know what the man was capable of, and if I’m not mistaken, so do you.”

Nalia shivered and said nothing.

“I sense something of his foul taint lingering on you, my lady. If you would allow me, I can remove it.”

Nalia gripped her cup tightly, torn between revulsion at the thought of any vestige of Niryn, and fear of trickery.

“By my hands and heart and eyes, lady. I would never hurt you, or the child,” Arkoniel said, guessing her thoughts once again.

Nalia struggled with herself a little longer, but when he did not press her, she finally nodded. If he was going to betray her with that kindly manner and reassuring words, better to know it at once and be done with it.

Arkoniel drew out a slender crystal wand and held it between his palms as he closed his eyes. “Ah yes, there it is,” he said after a moment. He rested a hand on her head and Nalia felt a tingling warmth course through her body. It felt nothing like Niryn’s magic; this was like sunlight compared to frost.

“You are free, my lady,” he told her, returning to the other chair.

Nalia wondered how to test it. Not knowing what else to do, she blurted out, “Niryn seduced me.”

“Ah, I see.” The wizard did not appear shocked by the news, only sad. “Well, he has no more hold on you. As long as you are under Queen Tamír’s protection, I will see to it that no one abuses you so again. You have my oath on that.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. “Why are you doing this? Why does Tamír send such people to me when I bear the child of her rival?”

“Because she knows what it is to suffer, and because she loved Korin very much, even at the end when he had no love left for her. When you meet her, you will see for yourself.” He rose and bowed. “Rest well tonight, dear lady. You have nothing more to fear.”

Nalia sat by the fire for a long time after he left, caught between sorrow and hope.

Lutha returned with Lady Nalia a week later. In keeping with her status, Tamír sat on a cloak-draped stool outside her tent with her nobles around her and her army massed in two large squares, forming an avenue through the great camp. Ki was on his feet again, and in his proper place at her side, still impressively bruised and wearing his arm in a sling.

Caliel had politely refused the baldric she’d offered him, and no more had to be spoken between them. He stood apart with some of the nobles, Tanil close beside him, as always. The two were inseparable.

As the returning force approached, Tamír was surprised to see that their number had greatly increased. The mystery was solved when Lutha and Nyanis rode up with a third rider between them.

“Tharin!” Throwing dignity to the wind, Tamír jumped to her feet and ran to meet him.

Tharin swung down from the saddle and caught her in his arms with a stifled grunt.

“Are you wounded?” she asked, backing up again to search him for blood.

“It’s nothing serious,” he assured her. “Lord Nevus gave us a good fight before I killed him. It was the same day we got word of your victory here.” He looked down at the Sword hanging at her side, and touched the hilt reverently. “At last, it hangs at the side of a true queen.”

Ki limped over to join them, and Tharin laughed at the sight of him as they clasped hands. “Looks like you have a few tales to tell, yourself.”

“More than you know,” he replied with a pained smile.

“I’m glad to see you, Tharin, but what are you doing here?” asked Tamír, walking him back to her makeshift throne.

“After we routed Nevus and burned the ships Korin sent, I pushed north, thinking I’d meet you coming the other way. We reached the isthmus in time to meet with Lutha and Nyanis and I decided to carry word to you myself. Atyion is secure and the last of the northern lords are declaring their loyalty in very loud voices. I only had to kill a few on the way. Ki, your brother sends his regards. Rilmar held out under siege and your family is well.”

When the Companions and her generals had greeted the others, Lutha sent a messenger back to summon Nalia.

Nalia arrived, mounted on a fine white horse and escorted by Arkoniel and the two Aurënfaie commanders. Tamír recognized her at once from Lutha’s description. She was indeed homely, and the wine-colored stain was pronounced, but Tamír also saw the mix of fear and gentle dignity in her eyes and bearing.

Arkoniel helped her dismount and gave her his arm as he escorted her to Tamír. “Queen Tamír, allow me to present Lady Nalia, Prince Korin’s wife.”

“Your Majesty.” Nalia made Tamír a deep curtsy and remained on one knee before her, trembling.

Tamír’s heart went out to her at once. Rising, she took the young woman’s hand and drew her to her feet. “Welcome, cousin. It grieves me to meet you at last under such sad circumstances.” She motioned to Lynx and he stepped forward with the jar containing Korin’s ashes. Nalia looked at a loss and did not move to take them. Instead, she clasped her hands over her heart and gave Tamír an imploring look.

“Lord Lutha and Master Arkoniel have been most kind to me and have given me many assurances, but I must hear it from your own lips. What are your intentions toward my child?”

“You are pregnant, then?” Nalia was still very slender.

“Yes, Majesty. The baby will be born in the spring.”

“You are Royal Kin, and your child shares my blood. If you will give me your oath to uphold my right to the throne and put aside all claims of your own, then you will be welcome in my court and given titles and lands in keeping with your station.”

“You have my oath, with all my heart!” Nalia exclaimed softly. “I know nothing of court life, and ask nothing but to live in peace.”

“I wish the same for you, cousin. Lord Caliel, Lord Tanil, step forward.”