Mickey Reichert - Flight of the Renshai

The thought horrified Matrinka. "You haven't done anything-"

"-illegal? No. But we have… we've kissed. And we'd like permission to court."

Court? "Marisole, you're just too… just too… young." Matrinka realized she sounded ridiculous the moment the words left her mouth. The issue was not age; it was incest.

Taking her mother at her word, Marisole grinned. "When you were my age, you were married with a child."

"Yes… but…"

"But what?"

"I want a better life for you, Marisole."

For a moment, Marisole only stared. Then, she started laughing. It grew from a chuckle to a torrent in an instant, and even Matrinka could not help smiling.

At length, Marisole caught enough breath to speak. "All right, Mother. Let's say for a moment that the destruction of all mankind didn't lay at our feet right now.You're the queen of the most powerful country in the Westlands.You have two healthy daughters. And, while I'll grant you Arturo's death was a calamity, you can hardly blame that on the age at which you courted.The populace, the whole world, loves you. If my life was any happier than yours, I'd be in a constant state of delirium."

Matrinka's grin could not last. As it faded, she pulled Marisole into a much looser embrace and rocked her ever so slightly. "You're right, Marisole. Bloodwise, you're not that close, and Prince Barrindar is very sweet." She shook her head at the enormity of understanding behind that simple statement. "But getting my blessing's not enough. You still have to convince your father, Barri's mother, and the Council, which includes Bard Darris. Even then, you have to consider the populace; the price of being royalty is that you're both ruler of, and property of, your people. And, no matter what you've figured out about your bloodline, they believe you're half siblings."

Marisole allowed her mother the moments of babying. "We've thought of all of that. And more."

"More?" Matrinka cupped her daughter's face. A long time had passed since teenaged Marisole had allowed her this much contact.

"I'm the next bard," Marisole reminded. "That eventually makes me the bodyguard of the ruler of Bearn. What if the test chooses Barri? Would he let me guard him; or would he try to protect me instead?" Marisole's shoulders rose and fell in resignation. "Worse, what if the test picked me? Would I have to guard myself?"

Matrinka knew no similar situation had ever presented itself because the bard's line and the royal line had always remained distinctly separate. In fact, Darris was Pudarian on both sides of his family as far back as history recorded. "I know we seem old to you, but your parents are not yet decrepit. Griff could rule till he's a hundred, gods willing. Darris might guard him into his own dotage."

"That would make things easier for us," Marisole said plainly, responsibly. "But I'm trying to consider the worst possible cases; because if I prepare for them, I'm ready for anything." She turned serious. "Mother, it's possible that neither of them will survive this war. Or Barri, either."

"Oh, honey." Matrinka could barely contemplate the thought. She had heard Tae's report. She, and only a handful of others, knew the truth. If the continental allies lost this war, no one of their world would survive. The alsona would kill every last one of them: man, woman, or child. She would not burden Marisole with that knowledge, not now. She had enough for any adolescent to deal with. "Griff 's not a fighting king. He'll remain behind the lines, and Darris is pledged to stay at his side. Prince Barrindar's not a warrior either; and he's too young and valuable to risk. The loss of even one life is a tragedy, but those three are more likely than most to survive."

Marisole forced a smile that looked more like a grimace. "You'll understand if I want to spend as much time as possible with Barri?"

Matrinka understood. The two could not present their case to the king or the Council until the war had ended; and, by then, one or both of them might die. We all might die. The thought became a dark, grim noose that she could barely contemplate. Matrinka could still recall the burning desire she had felt for Darris as a teen, a love that still flared inside her at the mere thought of him. The law prevented them from courting, from marrying, yet that had not stopped them. The flame was too hot, the need too great, to bow to laws and family. "Thanks for talking to me instead of sneaking around behind my back."

Marisole nodded and smiled hopefully.

"The intent of the royal incest law is to prevent the line of kings from becoming too inbred, just as other laws exist to keep it from straying from the god-blessed Bearnian blood that keeps the West in balance."

Marisole understood more than Matrinka expected. "You mean the law that kept you and Darris from marrying."

"Yes," Matrinka admitted. "Which is why it's unlikely the heir-test will select you or Halika."

"Or Ivana."

Matrinka bobbed her head. "The Council already decreed before Ivana's birth that no child born of an elf could take the throne."

"So, there's about a one-in-three chance that, if Barrindar and I are allowed to marry, Bard Darris will have to guard his own son-in-law-by-blood. Or I could be in the position of faithfully guarding my own husband." Marisole turned her mother a pleading look that spoke volumes.

Matrinka sighed. The queen understood so much more that Marisole had, apparently, not yet considered. To obtain permission for such a courtship meant announcing Matrinka's infidelity, which might violate significant law of its own. It might also subject Darris to serious, perhaps even capital, punishment. To protect them, Griff would have to admit his complicity, which could bring justice down upon his head as well.

All three had been very young when they spawned the agreement, the eldest only Marisole's current age. At the time, Matrinka had only wanted to dodge a loveless marriage, to couple with the man she truly loved. Although she had considered the danger and consequences since, the worst she had anticipated was the need to lie or to explain the deception to their children. It had never, in her wildest imaginings, occurred to her that her children might want to consort with siblings, like-blooded or not.

Nevertheless, Matrinka knew forbidding young love would only make it flare brighter, become infinitely more sure and desperate. Had Griff insisted on sharing her bed, she would have done her duty and never disgraced their marriage. However, she would have lived in the constant dark depths of depression, longing forever for her husband's bard bodyguard. Always tantalizingly in sight and always forbidden.

"Marisole, spend the time you have with the one you love; but you must keep it secret. I know some herbs that can help keep you… safer."

"Safer?"

Matrinka blushed, weighing her words.

As usual, Marisole blurted the ones Matrinka so cautiously tried to avoid. "To keep me from getting pregnant, you mean?"

Matrinka bit her lip. Now was not the time for pussyfooting or a lesson in manners. "You cannot, under any circumstances, allow that to happen. Even I can't help you, then. Do you understand?"

"Yes." Marisole looked her mother full in the eyes. "I'll use your herbs. Faithfully, I promise."

That did not satisfy Matrinka. "They're not foolproof, Marisole. It's better if you don't take things that far." Under ordinary circumstances, Matrinka would have demanded abstinence. Good women did not have intercourse before marriage. Even she had waited, though she could hardly give lectures on marriage and bedroom protocol. While staring down annihilation, even the most moral citizens of the continent might choose to engage in one last act of love or lust. She doubted many soldiers, married or single, would go to war with their manhood unsated.