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"What?" Eldri asked. "What do you see?"
Roca described it. "They must have brought materials up from the plains. They haven't been cutting that rock out of these mountains. We would have noticed." She pulled back and focused on him. "Does it sound familiar?"
"Yes." Eldri spoke grimly. "A battering ram."
No one expected Roca and Brad to stay out of war councils anymore. Roca sat next to Eldri at the table, and Brad sat near Garlin. Shannar, the military expert, was next to Channil, the senior midwife at Windward and the closest they had to a chief physician. Shaliece, the Memory, also sat with them, focused and attentive.
Over the past months, Roca had come to respect these people. Life here was rough and uncompromising, but it also had an integrity she valued. She wished she could distill its positive qualities and pour that essence into the cold, glittering Imperial Court. The man the a.s.sembly had intended her to marry, the reputedly incomparable Prince Dayj, could learn a lot from these people. Not that he would; Roca knew her former intended would never view Eldri's people as anything more than inferior beasts.
The irony was that Eldri probably had the blood of the ancient Ruby queens and kings flowing in his veins, far more than Dayj.
It had taken her a while to realize how much Brad disconcerted the inhabitants of Windward, who had never met him before. He apparently resembled a G.o.d from Lyshrioli mythology, a fertility prince no less.
The G.o.d's hair was the night sky, so the people here found nothing strange in the idea that he came from "the stars." None of them had dark hair, skin, or eyes, and his coloring fascinated them. He took it in stride, though he seemed fl.u.s.tered to be considered the incarnation of a deity. Roca could imagine that with his good nature, good looks, and reputation for fertility, he hadn't had any trouble wooing his girlfriend in the village.
Right now, however, he was scowling at Eldri as he spoke in Trillian. "Yes, the port is only one house.
But it represents something much larger. If Avaril's men murder a Ruby heir, the repercussions will be so severe, you can't begin to imagine them."
Garlin regarded him dourly. "Would you care to tell Avaril?"
Eldri's frustration was so strong, it felt like fog against Roca's skin. "You make dire proclamations," he told Brad. "But you offer no viable alternatives."
"We're working on the explosives," Brad said.
"Do they explode?" Garlin asked.
Brad grimaced. "Not much. Yet."
Although Roca didn't speak Trillian well, she had improved over the past months. "What about other idea-tunnel through chasm walls to escape into northern mountains?"
The Memory held up her hand. When Eldri inclined his head, she said, "I have retrieved my Memories of every route mapped over the ages. Avaril's mountain climbers have blocked them all."
"I do not understand this 'mountain climbing.' " Shannar glared at Brad as if he had invented the activity rather than just given them the terminology. "What sane person would hammer spikes in a wall and swing from them on a rope?"
Eldri c.o.c.ked an eyebrow. "It works, Shannar. Cousin Avaril may be a harsh man, but he is not stupid."
Roca's baby suddenly gave a hearty kick. She rested her hand on her abdomen, aware of a pain with no connection to the child's robust activity. It devastated her to know how much death threatened his incipient life. "Have we news of the plains?" she asked. "Maybe the Dalvador army comes here now."
"We've seen no one on the trail," Garlin said.
"If only we had a carrier pigeon," Brad muttered.
The Lyshrioli looked at him blankly.
Shaliece lifted her hand. "Could you repeat 'pije'?"
"Pigeon," Brad said. "A bird. It carries messages."
"What is 'bird'?" Eldri asked.
"A small animal that flies," Brad said.
"Perhaps we could build one," Roca suggested.
Brad pushed his hand through his hair, which had grown out in fluffy curls. "I've been thinking for a while about how I might cobble something together. If I cannibalize my palmtop and smart-knife, I could provide computerized direction to several small fliers. But I would hate to lose my equipment."
He had already mentioned the idea to Roca, and she understood his hesitation. Without his palmtop, he couldn't communicate with the port, and he wanted the knife for protection. But the time might be coming when they needed to take desperate chances.
"What would be the purpose of such fliers?" Garlin asked.
"To carry messages to your people in the plains," Brad said. "According to the computers at the port, no one has read the ones I've sent there."
"What new could these fliers tell anyone?" Shannar demanded, crankier than usual. "That we need help?
I imagine they already know that. They haven't heard from us for ages. They don't come because they are fighting the rest of Avaril's army. It is the only explanation."
Eldri frowned at him. "Shannar, it is not a bad idea. Brad wishes to help." Dark circles showed under his eyes. "Maybe the battering ram won't work." He didn't sound hopeful.
"Maybe it will." Shannar stood and began to pace. "It is time to destroy the bridge to Windward."
"Easily said," Garlin told him. "Not easily done."
Shannar glared at Brad. "What about your 'bombs'?"
"We can try," Brad said. "I doubt the explosives we've made so far are strong enough to destroy something that ma.s.sive."
"I cannot allow this." Eldri crossed his arms on the table. "I am the one Avaril wants. I should give...give myself..." His voice faded.
Shannar frowned. "Are you suggesting a surrender?"
Eldri stared at the table, his eyes glazed.
"Bard Eldrinson?" Shannar asked.
Garlin lifted his hand, palm out. "Wait. The sun G.o.ds speak with him."
Shannar raised his eyebrows and Shaliece shifted in her seat. Brad started to speak, then stopped when Roca shook her head. She suspected everyone at the table knew perfectly well no deities were involved here.
Eldri slowly raised his head and looked around. He stared for a long moment at Garlin, as if trying to recognize his cousin.
"Eldri?" Garlin's voice was gentler than when he spoke to anyone else.
"I am...fine." Eldri rubbed his eyes.
It tugged at Roca to see Eldri's bewildered expression. She wanted to protect him, to take him away from these people and their impossible demands. But she held back, knowing his pride wouldn't allow him to acknowledge what he considered a frailty.
Garlin resumed their discussion as if nothing had happened. "No surrender. Avaril won't take prisoners."
Eldri didn't answer, he just rubbed his eyes, still dazed. Shaliece seemed uncertain about whether or not she should record this. Roca's unease grew. Usually Eldri recovered faster, at least enough so he could listen while others talked. He seemed lost now, unable to respond at all.
In the same moment that Roca laid her hand on Eldri's arm, to suggest a break, Garlin stood. "Thank you all for your counsel," he said. "I will let you know when we will consult again."
Brad and the Memory rose to their feet, followed by Shannar, who moved as if he creaked. When they hesitated, Garlin spoke abruptly. "Leave. Now."
Shannar glared at him. "Well, and fine, we will come back when you decide to be civil." Then he stalked out of the hall. Shaliece bowed to Eldri and also left, her robe whispering on the floor. Brad still hesitated, and Roca could tell he wanted to ask after Eldri. Garlin responded with an implacable look, crossing his arms. Taking the hint, Brad bowed and took his leave.
"Garlin." Eldri stood up slowly, careful but more focused now. "You didn't have to insult them."
Roca also rose, awkward with her extra bulk. According to her node, she was over seven months into her pregnancy. "Eldri, perhaps you would like to rest."
He gave her an inimitable frown. "Stop hovering over me."
"Ah, Eldri." Garlin pushed back his s.h.a.ggy mane that swept from his widow's peak down to his shoulders. "Sometimes when you look like that-"
"Like what?" Eldri's anger flashed. "Like-like-"
By now, Roca recognized the signs immediately. In the same instant that she grabbed Eldri's arm, Garlin lunged toward them. Eldri grunted and collapsed, knocking Roca against the chair. It scooted along the floor and she toppled over, falling heavily to the stone floor. She cried out, instinctively wrapping her arms around her belly as she hit the ground. Eldri landed on top of her, heavy and limp, then rolled off to the side.
Roca groaned. She was aware of Garlin kneeling to check on her, but she was too shaken to notice more. She lay on her side, her heart beating hard. After several minutes, she slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position, holding her abdomen with one arm. To her immense relief, the baby gave a vigorous kick, as if to protest the unceremonious way he had been dumped on the floor. With grat.i.tude, she absorbed the feel of his mind, as radiant as before.
Mercifully, Eldri's convulsion had ended. He lay on his side now, his eyes closed, his hair disarrayed, blood trickling out of his mouth, his head cushioned on Garlin's jacket. Garlin was checking to make sure he had no broken bones.
"Ai, love," Roca murmured, leaning over Eldri. "How are you?"
His lashes fluttered. He blinked at her, then closed his eyes.
Garlin looked across Eldri at her. "Are you all right?"
"I think so." She checked the sore spots where she had hit the floor. "I will have bruises. But the baby is all right."
"That is his second attack in three days." Garlin sounded as if he were breaking inside.
Roca brushed back Eldri's hair, keeping her touch light. He was sleeping now. "The third, if you count the one he had while we were talking with Shannar."
Garlin spoke bitterly. "Avaril may win without having to do anything at all to achieve his goals."
"Have the seizures ever been this bad before?"
"Not like this. Usually he improves at Windward. Sometimes he has none at all. That was why we came.
All he wanted was a little relief." His voice caught. "He never complains. But his attacks are growing worse. He can't live this way."
"Ai, Garlin." Roca had never seen him like this, his pain open, his emotional armor cracking. "Instead he got a siege."
"If Avaril caused the rock slide that killed our family, he may have killed Eldri that day, too. It has just taken longer." His words came out low and agonized. "I would wish Avaril to suffer as he has made Eldri suffer. I should not. But I do."
"I, too." Roca knew it wasn't an appropriate sentiment for a Foreign Affairs Councilor; she should strive to understand both sides of the events that spurred this war. But faced with her husband's dying, she had no objectivity.
"Do you know why coming up here helped him?" she asked.
"The air, we thought." He pulled off the scarf around his neck and used it to wipe saliva and blood away from Eldri's mouth. "It is clearer. Less humid."
Roca went through the files in her node, but found nothing about dry air as a treatment. "I don't know. It seems unlikely."
"I can think of no other important differences."
"What about changes in lifestyle? Food? Pollen?"
Patiently, Garlin said, "What is pollen?"
"Plants make it. They reproduce that way."
"Like glitter in reed bubbles?"
"Essentially."
He shook his head. "No plants grow up here. So no glitter. But the attacks are much worse."
Roca recalled how she and Eldri had been covered in glitter all the way across the plain. He had shown no distress then. "Perhaps he's worse now because he's under so much strain."
Garlin's fist clenched on his knee. "It was my idea to come here."
"You couldn't have known."
"I feel so-" He fought with the words. "So G.o.dsforsaken helpless."
"You must not blame yourself." She could feel how much it hurt him to be unable to help Eldri. "He is alive today because of the care you've given him his entire life."
He considered her. "I would not have expected you would acknowledge such."
"But why do you say that?"
"When first you came to us, I thought nothing could thaw your heart." He lifted his hand, palm up, then turned it down in a gesture she didn't recognize, though she had a sense it meant he retracted his words.
"With Eldri, though, you are different. He and I, we always shared aknowing,but it is nothing compared to what he has with you." His face gentled as he looked at Eldri, though with sorrow as much as affection. "Always I have been first in his life, closer to him than anyone else." In a low voice, he said, "It hurts to become second."
Roca could tell how much it cost him to make that admission. She thought of Garlin spending his life tending Eldri, never having a full life of his own, knowing the cousin he loved might die anytime. She spoke quietly. "I am honored to be part of your family."
His mouth quirked in a smile, making him look ten years younger. "Ah, well. You are a diplomat."
"Foreign Affairs," Eldri said groggily. He sat up between them, rubbing his eyes. "Is that right, Roca?"
"Yes." She tried to smile, too, though moisture gathered in her eyes. "Councilor for Foreign Affairs."
A ghost of his mischief sparked. "Am I a foreign affair? But no, we are married. Now it is legitimate."