Voices of Blaze Page 21

  What did they care if she lived?

  She feeds us, and we are so very hungry.

  Morghiad shook his head clear of them. It was true that a more peaceful continent might have made Artemi’s future lives better, but no peace of nations could put cutthroats and thieves out of business. Nothing could be guaranteed to protect her in the future, except him. No, a Sunidaran kahrling or two would get kidnapped, whether they liked it or not.

  They finished the fight when Morghiad was breathless and sweating profusely, which was an odd sensation given the chill he felt beneath his flesh.

  “You are a little unfit,” Romarr said, “But you have the potential to be as good as any of us.”

  Morghiad could barely get the words of a reply out, but if he could, he would have thanked Romarr and agreed. Blazes, after riding across a continent and sailing those damned seas to find his son, he could not remember the last time he had practised with a blade!

  Morghiad went to lean against one of the pillars to recover, and removed his sweat-soaked shirt to allow his skin to cool. That was something else he could not remember doing in public for a long while - perhaps when he had been a very young man in Sunidara.

  “You do not disappoint,” a familiar voice said.

  Damn the woman! Would she not leave him alone?! Morghiad opened his eyes, and smiled politely at Sunidara’s queen. “Alas, I am not in as good shape as I once was.”

  “Everything looks in order to me,” she said sweetly.

  Morghiad searched vainly for Romarr, but found that the man had already made himself scarce. Burn him for leaving! “I have thought about the deal you offered me last night, my queen, and I have decided to decline. As attractive as it sounds, I fear it is not enough for me.”

  “Oh?” She stepped toward him as he straightened. “I suppose you have been thinking of ways to manipulate me. Let me tell you now, Green Eyes, that taking my children will not persuade me to change my mind. I know you are no murderer, and that you would not torture innocent men when the alternative is something so trifling as to bed a woman. So do not try to threaten me with that. I also-”

  “Then I will imprison them. For life.”

  Dorinna raised an eyebrow. “Really? Innocents, who have done you no harm? I do not believe you are as cruel as that. And what will the world think when they hear of the threats you make against my sons and daughter? What will your wife think of you – a woman who has fought so tirelessly to protect the innocent, a woman who has bled to correct injustices such as the one you are about to commit?”

  “Artemi will understand, and as for the world - the world will think you are an adulterous traitor to your country.”

  “But I have already told you – I care nothing for opinions of me. For you, however, the same is not true. Artemi is a woman with an inferno burning inside her. I have seen it in her eyes. Her kind can only afford to be disappointed once. Your indiscretions with me can remain secret, but anything you do to my children will make all of it public.”

  “And then what? The world will think well of me for upholding my vows to my wife. She will think the best of me for it of anyone.”

  She shook her head. “Ah, Morghiad. You still have much to learn about lies and words. It will be your word against mine that I have invited you to my bed. ‘I have taken her children in retaliation for her sexual demands of me,’ you will plead to the many rulers of the lands. And I shall say, ‘Oh no – Morghiad took my babies because I refused to lie with him. He hungered for me, slathered over me in the absence of his Artemi. I am a married woman. In all the centuries I have been married to my husband, I have never strayed once. Why would a good wife – a good queen such as I am - do such a thing? But this Morghiad, he was named by Calidell as a criminal, and some say he murdered his beautiful wife. Who knows what depths of depravity he will sink to?’” Her brow darkened. “Give me what I want, Morghiad Calyrish. You do not have a choice.” With that, she sashayed into the red haze of the hallways with her shoulders so relaxed that nothing appeared to trouble her at all.

  She was not pretty, Morghiad decided, not with that ugliness inside of her. Dorlunh! Where was that blasted Dorlunh when he was needed?

  Do not trust that one, the monsters began, but Morghiad ignored them.

  He grabbed the clothing he had dispensed with, sheathed his white sword and sprinted back to his chambers as fast as he could. After bathing and changing a second time, and pacing about a somewhat confused Kalad, Morghiad was glad to see the wiry little Kusuru admit himself to their chambers carrying a huge sheaf of papers.

  “Come with me,” Morghiad said, dragging Dorlunh into the sitting room and closing the door behind him. “I need your help.”

  Dorlunh flicked his pale ponytail over his shoulder and folded his arms. He had to be the only assassin who rarely walked about with his swords at his back. “Of course you do.”

  “It’s Queen Dorinna. I need to know her weaknesses – vulnerabilities – anything. You were right, politics are not my forte. How do I undo her?”

  “Undo?”

  Morghiad looked to the window to check that no one was dangling outside to listen, and then returned to the conversation. “Manipulate. I want her to sign the treaty no matter what.”

  “It is her husband who must sign it. She is merely his mouthpiece,” Dorlunh said.

  “She controls him.”

  Dorlunh frowned lightly. “What is she up to?”

  Morghiad thought of telling Dorlunh everything, but if he had… if he did have to go through with this, and Artemi found out... Blazes, why was he thinking of going through with this?! “That is for me to know, Dorlunh. You said you could help.”

  “I can help if I know what hold she has over you.”

  “Has she ever betrayed her husband? You’ve seen him, what he’s like - she must have-”

  Dorlunh sighed. “No, not to my knowledge. She is lauded in Sunidara for her faithfulness to him. Dutiful Dorinna, they call her.”

  Of course. Morghiad knew that. He had heard it said enough times during his years teaching at Fate’s.

  “As rulers go, she is pure as the snows in Kemen,” Dorlunh continued, “So I cannot fathom why you would want to manipulate her. If anything, Morghiad, this raises my suspicions about your motives, as does your secrecy.”

  Morghiad rolled his eyes. “I am not the untrustworthy one here.”

  Before they could continue with their discussion, there was a knock on the door. A messenger was admitted, and he handed Morghiad a note. It was from his daughter.

  He tore it open as fast as he could, but Kalad said the words almost as soon as he read them. “Mirel’s escaped.”

  No. No! It was too late!

  Pain woman, pain woman, pain woman! PAIN AND SUFFERING! the creatures screamed in his mind. Blazes, but they were so loud he could hardly hear anything but them!

  “I should take you out of here,” Morghiad said to his son. “While you are still alive. This place… it is too much of an opportunity to her.”

  Kalad folded his arms and shook his head. “No. We’ve come this far. I’m not turning back now. If we explain to Mirel how importa-”

  “She cannot be reasoned with. Dorlunh, tell him.” The monsters were still raging in his head, but Morghiad walked directly to the window so that he could stare at the sun and shut the little bastards up.

  Dorlunh cleared his throat. “Mirel is… she is a dangerous and mad woman. If you care for your own skin, you would do well to leave this place. If you wish to finish this treaty however, you do have Romarr, your father and I watching over you.”

  “Dorlunh!” Morghiad hissed, but Dorlunh did not so much as flinch.

  “The treaty goes ahead,” Kalad said. “We will tell Irannya to increase the number of guards she has about.”

  Morghiad sighed. “Guards are wooden toys to Mirel. She’ll only knock more of them over. Better just to let her walk in.”

  Dorlunh nodded in agreement.

&nb
sp; “Are you sure about this Kalad?” Morghiad asked. “This is your life-”

  “Exactly. My life. We continue.”

  Morghiad’s concerns soon shifted to Medea. She had Tallyn Hunter watching over her, but who could say if that would be enough? Blazes, how had Mirel even escaped? He would go to his daughter as soon as this was done, and he would take Kalad with him. It was the only way. Unless… Mirel would probably anticipate that much. Perhaps it would be better if the children were in different locations.

  It was then that he remembered something Artemi had given him. He reached to the buckle on his sword strap, unclasped it and took the weapon down from his back to hold upright. Slowly and carefully, he withdrew the glittering blade from its scabbard, and listened closely to its fine song. It was a beautiful thing to behold indeed, and made more so by the echoes of Artemi’s power that still lay within it. He waited there for a moment, his son and Dorlunh staring at him as if he had gone mad, but Artemi’s stream did not pop into existence as he had hoped.

  “What was that all about?” Kalad asked.

  “Doesn’t matter.” Morghiad said. “We have negotiations to be getting on with.”

  The talks soon commenced anew, and Morghiad found himself avoiding the gaze of Queen Dorinna throughout. Perhaps it would put her off, he considered, if he could find a family tree that demonstrated how they were related. All kings and queens of Sennefhal shared blood somewhere in their pedigree. Once or twice during the discussions, he even found himself wishing that Mirel would sweep in and remove the problem for him altogether. But she did not arrive, and Kalad’s speech the previous evening had oiled the talks enough to make them run like a mechanical clock.

  The negotiations drew to a close with remarkably little squabbling by late afternoon, but it took another seven days before each of the nine nations appeared, outwardly at least, to be ready to sign. In that time, Queen Dorinna did not retract her demands, or amend them even slightly. By the final night of the negotiations, Morghiad felt he had aged another century.

  Millennia of peace and a failure as a husband, he thought as he looked across the table at King Paolin. Ruler of the Shifting Sands of Sunidara; Hand of Justice before the Blazing Sun, to give him some of his titles.

  Dead-eyed fool, said the monsters. Dead fool.

  A servant approached the king before the monsters could say anything further, drew back his long hair and reached over to cut up his food. Then, he raised the spoon to his master’s mouth and the piecemeal bites were accepted gladly.

  “Eeh umm. That’s good,” the king slurped appreciatively. Blazes, could the man not feed himself?

  The queen appeared to be pushing her food about her plate, her lips expressionless and her eyes focussed on nothing. Five children. How had she managed to produce five children with that melted pudding of a man? Morghiad cast his eyes over the two boys who were present. They certainly looked like the man they called father; that nose was unmistakable, and one of them had his mother’s ravenwood curls about his head.

  Dorinna had done her duty for her country, it seemed, so perhaps it was not unthinkable for her to desire something pleasant for herself. Few kings or queens had ever married for love, and Morghiad knew that he had been more than fortunate to have Artemi at all. A life at court without at least a hope of her presence was unimaginable to him.

  He lived in hope now, he thought with a wry smile. Almost instinctively, he searched the ether for any trace of her stream, but it and she were still absent. Indeed, Morghiad understood all too well what it meant to long for something he could not have, and he knew how deeply the pain of that longing could dig its claws. He offered Dorinna a sympathetic smile as they ate, before returning to his conversation with his son.

  Afterward, he was able to sneak into her chambers – chambers unsurprisingly separate from those of her husband - without her guards there to witness him. He only needed to wait until the moon had filled the frame of the nearest window for her to enter. So serene was Queen Dorinna that she did not even twitch when he moved out from among the shadows.

  A hand around the throat to silence her, whispered the monsters.

  No. Morghiad would not murder this unfortunate woman.

  “You have come to fulfil the terms of our bargain, good king?” she asked as she glided toward him.

  Years ago, Morghiad would have endeavoured to maintain a respectable distance from a woman who approached too steadily, but that had been his old, Calidellian self. Hirrahan men most certainly did not back away under any circumstances. To move away demonstrated fear, subservience and uncertainty of purpose. He felt none of those things. “I have come to reason with you. You are an intelligent woman, after all.”

  She came close enough to share his breath with him. “You give me something I need, and I will give you what you need.”

  “This continent needs the treaty. It is not about my needs or yours. And if this is truly what you want, you could choose anyone else to love you, Dorinna. Anyone but me.”

  Dorinna raised her hand toward his lidir; she began twirling them about her fingers. “With so much at stake, what I ask for is a small thing indeed.”

  He sighed and ceased her hand from making further explorations through his hair. “It does not need to be with me.”

  “The love you share with your wife is fast becoming a legend of its own.” The queen moved away and began a slow, ambling circuit of the room. “It has crossed so many boundaries: rank, nationality, age, experience… life and death. To know a love like that – what it must feel like! Fires, I cannot even begin to imagine!”

  “It is difficult,” Morghiad said.

  “What?”

  “Loving her is no easy thing, believe me, but I am driven to it. I have no choice.”

  “I want to know that love.” She nodded toward him. “From you. No other man has ever loved a woman as you love your Artemi Fireblade. Let me experience it.”

  Words drained from his mind altogether, and several moments passed before he could summon any new ones to his lips. “It cannot just be set alight like a hearth log – and to suggest that I could love another woman… What you ask is impossible.”

  “I want to be her, with you.”

  “It would be a lie.”

  “Then learn to lie well!”

  Morghiad shook his head. “Out of the question.”

  “Then your peace will fail.”

  Morghiad seated himself on the edge of the bed and rubbed at his stubble. He had always known that he would give up everything and anything for Artemi. He had very nearly signed away Calidell in order to guarantee her life, and he would have done so again if the situation had demanded it. But this was not about her survival. This was about his guilt. He would be sacrificing his own conscience, and not any part of Artemi. This did not have to harm her at all.

  He could not make himself love Dorinna, and certainly not when she had put him in so galling a position, but for the lives of thousands of innocents… surely he could pretend? He regarded her as she stood in the moonlight, ravenwood curls cascading to her hips and delicate hands clasped at her waist. She was long-faced and blue eyed, and undeniably beautiful with it. Men had been forced to do far worse things than make love in the name of peace.

  He rose, paced the room several times, and eventually said a very quiet, “I’ll do as you ask.”

  The Queen of Sunidara drew close to him on soft feet, and began raining kisses onto his neck. Blazes, but he missed Artemi! He would have been the first to admit that he needed something to take the pain away, to stop the hurt and quell the monsters in his mind. He was permitted that much, wasn’t he? And surely this could only help, couldn’t it - to prevent himself from revisiting that madness again?

  You were closer to sanity then.

  The queen had already begun unlacing his shirt, and her soft fingers brushed over his skin in a manner so reminiscent of his wife’s. How he wished he could hold her close to him at that moment; he needed her. Li
ght of Achellon, which would have been worse: to see Artemi – fire of his lives, mother of his children - heartbroken by his actions, or to watch the world they shared burn because he allowed himself to become morose in her absence? And it would be a pleasure with this queen, wouldn’t it? Even if it was not with the only woman he had ever truly loved?

  The queen kissed him, and she was so free of fire that each touch of her lips felt like a hundred snowflakes landing on his. Morghiad pulled her closer to him, his hands circling her waist as they had so often circled Artemi’s.

  She was not completely innocent of having ventured beyond their bond, either, he reminded himself. She had shared a kiss with Silar, and Morghiad had come to accept it after a time, though the thought still made his insides twist and knot. The Sunidaran queen’s hands were venturing… somewhere they really ought not to venture to, but it was not at all unpleasant.

  “Call me fire of your heart,” Dorinna whispered between kisses.

  “Fire of my heart,” he said back to her, imagining that it was his Artemi that he held.

  He ran his fingers through her hair, and it was as silky and as cool as his eyes had promised it would be. “My Artemi,” he repeated over and over.

  Dorinna had removed all his clothes from his skin, and already his nakedness added to the bitter ice he felt in his bones. To have spent more time unbuttoning her dress would have left him too cold, and so he grabbed his nearest dagger, pressed her body against his for her heat, and used the blade to cut through all of her complex fastenings. Besides, if it had been Artemi who stood before him, he would never have been patient enough to wait for sensible divestment.

  She was wide-eyed as he picked her up and cast her onto the bed, but all he could see now was Artemi. Artemi and her golden-red hair. Artemi and her beckoning lips. Artemi and her claws that dug at the flesh in his back when they made love. His perfect Artemi.

  Lannda shivered and pulled the soft wool of her robe more securely around herself. She could feel the way the world turned on its axis, she was sure, and something had just made it falter. The end was approaching now. She could feel its breath upon her neck and the ferocity of its gaze upon her back. It was coming for her. It was coming for everyone.