The Born Queen

CHAPTER FOUR

NEIL'S STEED stumbled, tried to catch her stride, then stopped and tossed her head, blowing. Her coat was slick with foam, and her withers trembled. Neil leaned forward and stroked her neck, speaking to her in his native language.

"It'll be fine, girl," he told her. "The prince says we'll be giving you a rest in less than a league. But I need you to go now, yes? Let's do it."

He gave her a gentle nudge, and she started gamely forward, finally working up to match the canter of the others.

"It's a beautiful evening," he told the mare. "Look at the sun there, on the water."

Three days of hard riding had brought them to an old coastal trail that wound over bluff and down slough. The sun was going home, and Saltmark Sound was ski

Part of him yearned toward that water, those islands, to be adrift in those terrible and familiar waters. He had been too long landlocked.

But he had things to do, didn't he? What his heart wanted was no matter at all.

That sent him glancing ahead to where Bri

As the sun touched the water, they came to an old castle on a little spit of stone sticking out into the sea. Barnacles up its walls showed that during the highest tides it must be cut off entirely from land. The tide was rising now but was far from high enough to cover the causeway, so they rode in to change their horses, the third time they had done so since starting their push for Crotheny. Berimund was being careful. The first of his friends he had visited had told him his father had put a price on his head and on the head of every man who aided him.

So they traveled ways less straight and warded than the great Vitellian Way.

They didn't stop for long. Neil kissed the mare on her soaking forehead as they led her away and met his new mount, Friufahs, a roan gelding. He was introducing himself when he heard Bri

"It's not seemly," he heard Berimund answer.

"Nevertheless," Bri

His gaze attracted by the conversation, Neil saw Berimund looking at him.

The Hansan walked over. "You have been alone with my sister on more than one occasion."

"That's true," Neil said.

"Have you been improper with her?"

Neil straightened. "I understand you might doubt me, but why would you cast such aspersions on your sister, sir?"

"My sister is both very wise and very naive. She has not known many men, Sir Neil. I'm only asking you for the truth."

"Nothing inappropriate happened," Neil said. "Not when we were alone. When she set me off her ship in Paldh, I did kiss her. I did not mean to dishonor her in any way."

"She told me about that. She told me she asked you to kiss her."

He nodded.

"You did not think that part worth telling, although not doing so would put you in my ill graces?"

"It is her business," Neil said, "and not my place to make excuses."

"You admit, then, that you should have refused her?"

"I should have. I can't say I'm sorry I didn't."

"I see."

He looked out at the half-vanished sun. "She wants to ride with you for a while," he said. "I don't think it's right, but she is my sister, and I love her. Do not take undue advantage, sir."

He returned to Bri

Resupplied and rehorsed, they continued on along the coast. Small, scallop-winged silhouettes appeared and fluttered against the bedimmed sky, and a chill breeze came off the waves. Far out at sea he made out the lantern on the prow of a lonely ship. Inland, a nightjar churred.

"I'm sorry about your queen," Bri

"I wish you could have, too," Neil replied. "I wish I could have saved her."

"You're thinking if you hadn't been in our prison, you might have."

"Maybe."

"I can't say. But I couldn't act until Berimund came, and I wouldn't have been able to find where she was without him. Neither could you have."

He nodded but didn't answer.

"He thought she was safe. He intended to keep her safe."

"I know," Neil said. "I don't blame you."

"You blame yourself."

"I shouldn't have let her come."

"How would you have stopped her?"

He didn't have anything to reply to that, so they rode on tacitly for a bit. "It sounds so easy in the stories, riding a horse," Bri

"It's not so bad when you're used to it," he said. "How are you doing?"

"Parts of me are on fire, and others feel dead," she said.

"Then let's rest for a day or so," he urged. "Let's get you out of the saddle."

"We can't," she murmured. "We have to reach her before Robert does."

"A

"Not A

"That sounds familiar," Neil said.

"The man and woman are newly wed. The child is not theirs."

"There was a composer named Ackenzal," Neil said. "A favorite of-of the queen's. She attended the wedding, and I went with her. She and his wife have a girl in their care: Mery, the daughter of Lady Gramme."

"Yes. And half sister to A

"So they say."

"You can guide us when we're near?"

"What has this to do with mending the law of death?" Neil asked.

"Everything," she replied. "And if Robert knows that, she is in terrible danger."

"How should Robert know it?"

"I don't know. But I see him there." She paused for a moment. "I know what killed Queen Muriele and Berimund's wulfbrothars."

"It nearly killed you, too."

"Yes. It's music, horrible and yet somehow lovely. Once you begin listening, it is very difficult to stop. If you hadn't stopped me, if you hadn't called that other name, I would be gone now."

"The name from the ship."

"Yes," she whispered. He wished he could turn and see her face. "The ship, when I wasn't me and you weren't you."

"But now we are who we are."

"Yes," she replied. "We are who we are."

He thought she paused, as if meaning to go on, but she didn't, at least following from that thought.

"I told you I had a higher purpose," she finally said.

"You did."

Again she seemed to feud with herself for a moment before going on.

"I once had three sisters," she said. "We were called by many names, but in Crotheny and Liery we were most often known as the Faiths."

"As in the stories? The four queens of Tier na Seid?"

"Yes and no. There are many stories. I am what is real."

"I don't understand."

"There were Faiths before me who wore my masks. Many of them, going back to the hard days after Virgenya Dare vanished. We were known as Vhatii then. Time changes tongues and twists names. We have lived, some of us hiding in the open, others secluded in distant places. We're not real sisters, you understand, but women born with the gift. When we grow old, when our powers fail and even the drugs no longer open our vision, we find our replacements."

"But what do you do?"

"It's hard to explain. We are very much creatures of two natures. Here, we are human; we eat and breathe, live and die. But in the Ambhitus, the Not World, we are the sum of all who have gone before us-more and less than human. And we see need. Until recently our visions were rarely specific; we reacted as plants bend toward the sun. But since the law of death has been broken, our visions have become more like true prescience. My sisters and I worked for years to assure that A