“Sweet life! Why have you blessed her with forgetfulness when I remember everything?” Alyx, Warleader Inez and Shaman Jark sat open mouthed as Queen Elena, normally so controlled, kicked savagely at her tree stump throne, screaming curses until she was exhausted and panting, her fists still clenching with rage. Then suddenly she threw back her head and laughed.
“Oh no!” breathed Inez, a sentiment Alyx silently echoed. Laughter on the edge of hysteria - this couldn’t be good.
“Oh I was a fool,” cried Elena. “I was a fool to hope for vengeance. The past is dead and done for.” Her face was bitter as she turned to the others, but she looked sane enough.
“Bring the boy to me, Alyx.”
The two young men, Alain Seagani and Serge Madraga, had been kept separately from the other Gibadgee prisoners so that they could not tell them of the terrible pollution of the rivers. Both Seagani and Mirayan had long coveted the Mori’s sacred forest and should they hear that the Mori were so short of water and game that they would very soon be forced to migrate to the foothills of the Gen Mountains where there were still unpolluted springs, their tribesmen were certain to take advantage of it. Most of the Gibadgee party would probably be blindfolded and set free on the edge of the forest but some other fate awaited the two young men.
Alyx felt queasy as she watched the guards untie Serge Madraga from the tree where he’d been bound. Her mother had the ability to command complete devotion, indeed love, from anyone who saw her face. Her Tari aunts had called this “the gift of fatal beauty.” Those who looked upon Elena, especially men, lost all sense of self-preservation which was why her mother kept her face hidden as much as possible. Only Tari showed any resistance to her power.
Alyx had hated the few times when her mother had used her face to enslave people. So unfair. So ... un-Tari. Was she about to enslave Wolf Madraga’s son, by showing him her face? Alyx wanted vengeance as much as her mother did, but this didn’t seem right.
But her mother always knew what she was doing.
Alyx ordered Serge Madraga to be brought to the Queen.
“Where’s my stepmother? Why have you separated her from her child? It’s inhuman,” demanded Madraga. Always the Mirayans demanded. Alyx hardened her heart. He was her enemy and deserved no mercy just as his father had shown none when he had murdered her father!
“When I was her age, you Mirayans separated me from my mother and beat me if she did not comply with your demands,” retorted Alyx. “Don’t tell me what’s inhuman. Bring him!”
When she entered the royal enclosure, Alyx was relieved to see that her mother was again wearing her hood. The Queen addressed the Mirayan coldly in his own language.
“So! A peaceful party travelling through the forest?”
“Yes, Highness,” replied the Mirayan. “We mean no harm to the Mori and are very anxious to be on our way.”
“Of course you are,” said the Queen tartly. “We have heard of the political upset in Lamartaine and mindsearching your followers has confirmed it. I imagine the Mori would not be high on your list of enemies at the moment.”
Dismay flickered briefly over the young man’s face.
“Those who seek us may be inclined to come into the forest after us,” he said. “It would be far less trouble for you if you let us go on our way.”
“And the least trouble of all if we just handed you over to your uncle. We might even win his friendship.”
“My uncle would never make an alliance with natives,” snapped Serge. “He hates you all.”
“Yes, indeed,” said the Queen. “The return of Lev Madraga seems to have coincided with some interesting changes. Were you aware that your uncle Lev has a leaning towards death magic?”
The Mirayan had clearly not known of it, and it was news to Alyx, too. Did her mother suspect this boy’s uncle of being behind the desecration of the rivers?
“What are you talking about? He would never...! A Madraga would never soil himself with such things!”
“It seems I know your uncle better than you do for he has most assuredly dabbled in the past,” said the Queen. “According to your followers, your Uncle has accused you of killing your father. Of course, the penalty for this would be your death, which would leave your little sister the only Madraga left. And your Uncle in the position to take over as Regent on her behalf.”
The Mirayan’s face showed humiliation. He bowed his head and took a deep breath before speaking very carefully.
“I do not know my uncle’s plans. But I know he is keen to war on the Mori, Lady. The nobles were full of talk of it. They blamed the Mori for my father’s murder. So it would serve you better if my companions and I were let free to organise resistance and keep my uncle busy.”
“Perhaps. Or perhaps you would just take advantage of our weakness. We have no reason to trust Mirayans.”
Serge blinked, obviously not understanding what she meant.
Her mother laughed softly and shook her head. “You are not your father’s equal, are you boy?”
The Gibadgee flushed, opened his mouth to protest against the taunt, closed it again, and then, with a visible effort, relaxed his face until he looked almost dignified.
“Since I am your prisoner, I can’t stop you insulting me.”
“Very good!” laughed the Queen. “Perhaps you do have some sense after all. Now it’s like this. Something terrible has happened to our river.” She paused. “It is death magic, but despite the rumours I am no mage and our Mori mages have not the skill or the power to make our river whole again. Your stepmother is a Tari mage. She can help us heal our river and unless she wishes to see your little sister blinded and crippled, she will.”
“You cowards! You don’t have to threaten Olga,” cried Serge angrily. “My stepmother would be willing to help in any way she could. The state of the river distressed her beyond measure.”
The Queen shook her head. “Foolish boy. Your Uncle will eat you alive. Don’t waste your time with talk and anger. You are in my domain and I can do with you as I wish. You will tell your stepmother what I want.” She waved her hand dismissively.
“Why not ask her yourself?” snapped Serge, obviously furious at her dismissal.
Alyx’s hair stood on end at the sound of the fury in her mother’s voice as the Queen said, “I never wish to set eyes on that woman again. Take him away! Now!”
The Mori had heeded Olga’s cries and brought her to the tent where they were keeping Jindabyne. Exhausted by her upset, she lay fast asleep in her mother’s lap with her hand tightly clasping Jindabyne’s, and did not even awaken when Serge came in.
“Yes! I will help them,” said Jindabyne, speaking softly in Mirayan so that no one could hear her. “It is the only thing I can do. I have already discussed it with some of the shamans here.”
“That woman is your enemy,” hissed Serge. He leaned close. “Surely we can escape somehow.”
“No,” said Jindabyne. Her sense of self-preservation told her that she should be worrying about the Queen and what had happened between them in the past, but it was so unimportant compared to the horror of that polluted river.
The life force was mighty -- a great circle that bound the whole world together. Surely it was more powerful than the magic that had befouled the river. Yet witnessing that red gash in the land was like watching a leech crawling up an arm, watching its narrow pointed head questing in the air. Like a leech this red gash would sap the life force if it were allowed to continue unchecked.
“You must leave me here, Serge. You must get out of the forest and start organising against Lev while there’s still time. I’ll be safe enough. The shamans