Lynn Flewelling - The Oracle's Queen

“Welcome back, Arkoniel,” she said, as if reading his thoughts. “You stand at the side of the queen. Well done.”

“My task has only begun, hasn’t it?”

“You did not need to come here to know that.”

“No, but I want your guidance, great Illior. What must I do to help her?”

She waved a hand and the darkness beside them opened like a huge window. There was the city on the cliffs, full of great houses and wooded parks and broad streets. It was far larger than Ero and looked cleaner and more orderly. At its heart stood two palaces. One was low and forbidding, a fortress built into the curtain wall. The other was a huge, soaring, graceful four-sided tower, with thinner domed towers at each of the four points. This was guarded by nothing more than a single wall, and the land inside was planted with gardens. He could see people walking there, men and women and children, Skalan and ’faie, even centaurs.

“You must give her this.”

“This is the new capital she must found?”

“Yes, and the Third Orëska will be the secret guardians.”

“Guardians? I’ve been given that title already.”

“You keep the bowl?”

“Yes!”

“Bury it deep in the heart of the heart. It is nothing to you, or to her.”

“Then why must I keep it at all?” he asked, disappointed.

“Because you are the Guardian. By guarding it, you guard her and all of Skala and the world.”

“Can’t you tell me what it is?”

“It is nothing by itself, but part of a great evil.”

“And this is what you would have me bury at the heart of Tamír’s city? Something evil?”

“Can there be good, without the knowledge of evil, wizard? Can there be existence without balance?”

The vision of the city faded away, replaced by a large golden scale. In one pan lay the crown and sword of Skala. In the other lay a naked, dead infant: Brother. Arkoniel shivered and resisted the urge to look away. “Evil will always lie at the heart of all she accomplishes, then?”

“Evil is always with us. The balance is all.”

“I think I must do great good, then, to keep your balance. That child’s blood is on my hands, no matter what anyone says.”

The chamber went very dark around them. Arkoniel felt the air thicken and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Yet the Oracle only smiled and bowed her head. “You are not capable of doing otherwise, child of Illior. Your hands and heart are strong, and your eyes see clearly. You must see what others cannot allow themselves to accept and speak the truth.”

A pair of naked lovers appeared on the floor between them, writhing in passion. It was Arkoniel, driving between Lhel’s thighs as she clung to him. Her head was thrown back, her wild black hair spread around her ecstatic face. As he watched, his own face flushed and hot, she opened her eyes and looked directly at him. “You have my love always, Arkoniel. Never grieve for me.”

The vision faded quickly. “Grieve?”

“You delved in her body, and she has left you pregnant with magic. Use it wisely and well.”

“She’s dead, isn’t she?” Grief closed like a fist around his heart. “How? Can’t you show me?”

The Oracle just looked at him with those shining eyes and said, “It was a willing death.”

That took none of his pain away. All this time, he’d looked forward to going back and finding her waiting for him.

He pressed his face into his hands, tears hot behind his eyelids. “First Iya, and now her?”

“Both willing,” whispered the Oracle.

“That’s no comfort! What will I tell Tamír?”

“Tell her nothing. It serves no purpose now.”

“Perhaps not.” Arkoniel had long since grown used to carrying secrets and pain for the girl. Why should now be any different?

Niryn returned from his afternoon stroll among the encampments to find Moriel and Mistress Tomara waiting for him in his private chamber. The woman held a small white bundle against her belly and she was positively beaming.

“She’s with child at last, my lord!” She opened her bundle and displayed a collection of Nalia’s linen undergarments.

Niryn eyed them closely. “Are you certain, woman?”

“Not a sign of blood these past two full moons, my lord, and she hasn’t kept her breakfast down since the night of the floggings. I thought at first it was only her gentle spirit, but it’s kept on. She’s green as a marrow until noon and the heat makes her faint. I’ve been a midwife, as well as a lady’s maid, these forty years and I know the signs.”

“Well, that is happy news. King Korin will be delighted, I’m sure. You must come tomorrow and announce it before his court.”

“You don’t want to, my lord?”

“No, let’s not spoil it for him. Let him think he’s the first to know.” He drew two gold sesters from the air with a conjurer’s flourish and presented them to her. “For the king’s sake?”

Tomara took the coins and winked at him. “As you say, my lord.”

Tomara was as good as her word, and didn’t so much as glance in the wizard’s direction as she came to Korin the following morning as he held court.

He was in the midst of reports from his generals, but looked up in surprise to see her here at this hour. “Yes, what is it? Do you have word for me from your mistress?”

Tomara curtsied. “I do, Majesty. Her Highness bids me tell you that she is with child.”

Korin stared at her a moment, then let out a happy whoop and pounded Alben and Urmanis on the back. “That’s it! That’s our sign. Master Porion, send out the word to all my generals. We march on Atyion at last!”

Men in the crowded hall began to shout and cheer. Niryn stepped to Korin’s side.

“Are you certain the time is right?” he murmured, too low for anyone else to hear. “After all, she can’t be more than a moon or two along. Wouldn’t it be wiser to wait a little more, just to be safe?”

“Damn you, Niryn! You’re worse than an old woman,” Korin exclaimed, pulling away. “Do you hear that, my lords? My wizard thinks we should wait a month or two more. Why not say until next spring? No, the snows will come and the seas will be harsh. If we move now we may even catch them with their crops in the fields. What do you say, my lords? Haven’t we waited long enough?”

Another thunderous cheer went up as Niryn hastily made Korin a chagrined bow. “You know best, I’m sure, Majesty. I worry only for your safety and your throne.”

“My throne is in Ero!” Korin cried, drawing his sword and brandishing it. “And before the fall harvest is in, I will stand on the Palatine and claim it properly. On to Ero!”

The rest of the company took up the rallying cry, and soon it was passed from throat to throat out into the castle yards and beyond to the encampments.

Niryn exchanged a pleased look with Moriel. His little show had worked out well, and with the desired effect. No one could question that it had been the king’s will to proceed, rather than his wizard’s.

Nalia heard the shouting and hurried out onto the balcony to see if they were celebrating her news.

Korin’s army was spread out on both sides of the fortress, a vast sea of tents and corrals. She could see runners fanning out, and men emerging from tents in their wake. She listened for a moment, trying to make out the chanted words. When she did, she felt a stab of pique.

“To Ero? Is that all this means to him?” She went back to her needlework.

Not long after, however, she heard Korin’s familiar step on the tower stair.

He burst in, and for the first time since she’d met him, his dark eyes were alight with genuine joy. Tomara came in behind him and gave Nalia a happy wink over his shoulder.