Chapter 40 | The Queen Who Ruled by Herself

Ilhovin was still alive. Wallek was the first to reach him; the new Lord Valmouth immediately ordered the king carried back to his pavilion, and took his place at the head of the men turning the trebuchets toward Marsury. “Let the men know their king lives!” cried Wallek.

On the walls of the castle, cheers had broken out when Henrik's arrow had hit its target. “You should never have been able to pierce his armor, especially at this distance! How did you do it!” said Lord Barle, slapping Belleth's back.

“I told you, family heirloom,” said Belleth shortly, his face dark. “He might be alive now, but he won't be for long.”

“You say it as if you're sad about it! Henrik, you've just saved us!” shouted Lord Leutefloss happily. “His men won't follow the Sairish bitch! We've won!”

“We'll see,” said Henrik moodily.

Meanwhile, Ilhovin lay in his tent, his face pale. His armor had been carefully removed, but the arrow remained in his shoulder; the healers couldn't break its shaft. “I don't know what wood this is,” said the first of them to Eldest Brother Annert, “but it's nothing I've ever seen. This is a troubling thing, Brother. He should have awoken long before now. This is no ordinary arrow, and I fear for the king.”

When Ilhovin finally came to, Wallek was there. “What news?” he said weakly.

“The trebuchets were not badly damaged at all. We're making repairs and will be ready to use them to assault the castle walls tomorrow,” replied Wallek. “The men are holding steady and are more determined than ever to end this rebellion.”

“Wallek--Mihall--bring me my mirror. I need to see Macca.” Wallek brought the small mirror Ilhovin's servant kept with him. “Show me my wife,” he said.

At the Keep, Macca had dropped off in her chair before the fire, with Nowa spinning quietly at her side. The Teacher watched over them both, and the mirror set up near by; it began to shimmer, and the Teacher stood up, saying, “Ma'am, we have some word.”

Nowa gently nudged her, and Macca woke up instantly. “Ilhovin? What is it?” The image cleared, and Ilhovin's ashen face appeared. Macca cried out, “What's happened? He looks hurt! Teacher, what's happened?”

“Lady Nowa, fetch cloaks for yourself and the queen, quickly,” said the Teacher, lips compressed. Nowa hurried off, and the Teacher helped Macca from her chair. “We will go to him immediately, ma'am.” As soon as Nowa returned and helped Macca into her cloak, the Teacher took their hands and pulled them through the reflection to Ilhovin's side.

“Harla help me!” whispered Macca, taking in the arrow. She dropped to her knees and took Ilhovin's cold hand in hers, kissing it. “Hov? I'm here, it's me.”

He opened his eyes. “Hello, love. Wallek says we're winning,” he said with a faint echo of his lopsided grin. “Oh, don't cry, sweetheart,” he added as Macca burst into sobs. Behind her, Wallek put an unconscious hand at the small of Nowa's back as the queen's lady began to cry herself.

“What happened?” demanded the Teacher of the Eldest Brother. “How did he get in range of an archer without his armor on?”

“I would put my own naked body before him rather than let such a thing happen,” said Annert stiffly. “He was neither in range nor out of his armor.”

The Teacher turned back toward the pallet where the king lay. Annert didn't think it was possible for that white skin to go any whiter, but what little blood was in the Teacher's face left it. “Oh, gods, no.” The Teacher kneeled down by the queen and examined the arrow, whispering, “No, no, no. This shouldn't exist!”

“What shouldn't exist?” said Macca sharply. “You will tell me!”

“This arrow. I thought these had all been destroyed! I destroyed these 400 years ago!”

“Apparently not!” she said angrily.

“Please,” said Ilhovin faintly. “Please don't fight. I need you both to listen to me.”

“I'm sorry, Hov,” she said quietly, tears tracing down her cheeks.

“Listen to me, Teacher,” he said. “Listen to me, everyone. I am dying--”

“No,” soothed Macca.

“Yes,” he said. “I am. When I lose consciousness, the queen is my regent. When I die, she is my son's regent until he reaches his majority. You will obey her as you would me. Teacher, will you recognize her as my regent?”

“Yes,” nodded the Teacher gravely.

“Will all of you present serve the queen as you would myself and my son? Swear!”

“We swear,” came the rumbled reply.

“It doesn't matter,” said the queen desperately. “You won't need a regent! You will live, and our son will be born, and you will live!”

“Macca,” Ilhovin whispered. “I love you. I will always love you, even after the Bloody One comes for me. Be strong for our son. Name him Harsin for my grandfather, and Creithig for your father. Tell him I loved him. I--I have to rest now, love.” He closed his eyes, and his chest still rose and fell with his breath.

Macca let go his hand. “Leave us,” she said to the assembly. Wallek and Nowa led everyone from the pavilion. Teacher turned to follow them. “You, counselor. Stay,” said Macca. She waited until everyone was gone, and then said, “What is this thing in my husband's shoulder?”

The Teacher grimaced, and for the first time Macca saw tears falling from those pale gray eyes. “I made it--we made it, the Traveler Queen and I. We made a quiverful of them 400 years ago, specifically to pierce armor I had enchanted. When the need for them passed, I destroyed them. Or thought I had.”

“Did you,” she hissed. “This is how you serve your king, with lethal carelessness? ” The Teacher didn't answer, but looked at the floor. “The arrow is in his shoulder. How is it that such a wound is killing him.”

“Because the arrow is enchanted for more than the piercing of armor,” the Teacher said, just above a whisper. “It is enchanted to poison the blood. There is no way to save him, ma'am.”

“Oh, yes,” said Macca, laughing bitterly. “Oh yes, there is. And you will find it!”

“No, ma'am. I cannot. Men's magic has no effect on living things, you know that.”

“You will find this Traveler Queen, then! If her magic is poisoning him, then her magic can cure him!”

The Teacher's head shook. “She is not within my sight. At this time of year, she is in Alzeh, to the south, out of our borders.”

Macca stared. “Your arrow is killing him, but you can't cure him. You can't fetch the one who can cure him. What possible use are you!” she cried.

“I often wonder,” said the Teacher quietly.

Macca slapped the pale cheek. “Bastard child of a bastard mother! You will do something!”

“All I can do,” said the Teacher, finally looking into the queen's eyes, “is protect you and your son. And I will do that, ma'am.”

“Just as you promised to protect my husband?” The Teacher gave no answer. Macca paced slowly up and down, rubbing her bump; the baby was kicking, little jabs that usually made her smile, but now brought only anxiety. “What happens to his magic?” she finally asked. “Surely it won't pass to the baby?”

“No,” said the Teacher. “It cannot pass to him before his birth.”

“It's at least two spokes yet, though! What will happen if Hov dies before he's born!”

The Teacher paused. “I'm not entirely sure. There is no one in the king's line to hold the magic. And so I believe it will pass to me.”

“To you,” said Macca flatly. “The magic--all of it--will pass to you. Will my son take it back?”

“No. Once it's come to me, it will stay with me. None of the men of the line will ever have it again.”

Macca studied the pale face with an intensity that made even the Teacher squirm. “This was your plan all along, wasn't it, counselor?”

“Believe me, your majesty, it was not. I don't want the magic I have. You must know that's true. He's told you, hasn't he? Ilhovin has told you my story, though I made him swear he would not tell anyone.”

Macca nodded slowly, her eyes hard. “Yes. Yes, he did, and I have kept my promise not to tell anyone, not even Nowa. But if you are all I have now, Teacher, to protect myself and my son and this kingdom, I swear to you that I will make sure you are never set free for this. Never.”

“Never is a very long time, your majesty,” said the Teacher, voice shaking.

“Yes,” agreed Macca. “Yes, it is.”

Macca sat vigil that night with Wallek, Nowa, Teacher, Annert, Lord Whithorse and Lord Kellen, but Ilhovin never woke up. Toward dawn his breathing slowed, and finally stopped. The prophecy was fulfilled, and Macca began her long, lonely regency on that ridge above Agrin Fields.