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sorcerer, jerked free of Duncan and walked toward Tynstar. She stopped at
Carillon's side.
"If you take his life, you must also take mine. Do you think I
will stand by while you use your dark arts against my kinsman? I
am of this House also, Ihlini'"
Tynstar lifted a gloved hand as if in benediction. Another shudder wracked
Carillon's body and Alix sucked in a frightened breath.
"I can harm none of you with my arts," Tynstar said calmly, "and my strength
is lessened within your presence. But there is enough left to me. Carillon is
solely within my care. Speak again, Lindir's daughter, and see the result."
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"You cannot touch me, Ihlini," she whispered. "My own magic is stronger than
any other Cheysuli's. I have only to show you my wolfs fangs, and you will die
as Keough did, of fear alone."
Tynstar's eyes narrowed. "It is true, then, that Lindir gifted you with the
Old Blood of this land." He smiled and shrugged.
"Well, I can wait. Time is nothing to a man who is already three centuries
old."
He glanced regretfully at Carillon. Slowly the prince gathered his strength
and got shakily to his feet, lifting the sword loosely
as he rose. He stared in cold fury at Tynstar a moment, then looked at Alix.
His hand touched her arm.
"1 heard, cousin. And I give you my thanks,"
Tynstar stepped back from them smoothly. His beguiling smile blanketed them
all.
"Bellam will hold Homana-MuJhar, Carillon, and you will have to fight him for
it- But not this night.'*
He raised a hand, called purple flame hissing from the darkness, and
disappeared.
Epilogue
The darkness, illuminated only by eerie Qilini flames as purple demon fire
consumed the magnificence of Homana-Mujhar, was oppressive. Yet somehow they
garnered the surviving Cheysuli warriors and left the palace, forsaking the
Homanan city Bellam of Solinde had won.
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Carillon said very little on the long ride back to the Keep, so many leagues
into Ellas, but Alix knew he had not given himself up to depression. Carillon,
the boy-prince who had grown into a king, planned.
When at last they reached the Keep and the warriors scattered to their
pavilions and women. Carillon solemnly accepted Duncan's invitation to stay in
the state-colored clan-leader's pavilion.
And it was there, six days later, he told them his decision.
Alix shook her head repeatedly. "You should stay here. Here."
He sat before the fire cairn in his scarred leathers and crusted mail. His
wrists, though nearly healed, displayed the deep wounds left by Atvian iron.
Carillon's blue eyes were steady. "Bellam sends troops to find
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me- He is not a man who gives up easily. The Cheysuli have suffered enough at
Shaine's hands; I will not have them dying because the Mujhar's heir shelters
in their Keep."
"You are the Mujhar," Finn said quietly.
Alix glanced at him and saw the odd calmness she had come to acknowledge in
him. For all the confrontation within Homana-
Mujhar had changed Carillon, it had also worked its power on
Fmn-
Carillon gestured dismissively. "It is a title, Finn; no more.
And empty. Bellam on the throne of Homana claims it his."
"Homana knows it false," said Duncan in his husky voice.
Alix still winced when she heard it, fearing his normal tone would never
return; knowing Duncan, like Carillon, would carry his scars for life.
"Homana is a defeated land," Carillon said quietly. "It is folly to deny it.
To survive, Homana must do Bellam's bidding
... for a time."
"And Tynstar's," Alix said softly, shivering.
Finn shrugged casually. "We need only wait, Carillon. You will take back
Homana-Mujhar."
The last surviving male member of the House of Homana sighed heavily. "Not, I
think, for a long while. Thome heals in
Atvia, swearing he will avenge his father's strange death." His eyes flicked
to Alix, who stared fixedly at the fire caim. "Tynstar and his Ihlini buttress
Bellam's hold on the thrones of Homana and Solinde. This land's strength is
"diminished, and must renew itself before the battle begins once more." He
smiled faintly. "I
cannot ask my battered realm to go so quickly into war again."
Alix met his eyes at last. "Where will you go?"
"We are safe here, across me EHasian border. Your Keep has been left
unbothered by High King Rhodri's soldiers for years. I
think no one will mind a lone prince wandering through. I will fade into the
land for a time." Carillon's faint smile, older now, came quickly. "But 1 will
not risk another Cheysuli life until it benefits us all."
"It matters little that we risk ourselves," Duncan said quietly.
"The prophecy says one day you will ascend the throne of
Homana. One day . . . you will."
"The Cheysuli throne, Duncan?" Carillon mocked, and grinned.
"I have not forgotten."
"Nor have we."
Carillon abruptly got to his feet. He stared down at Alix.
"Cousin, once you told a naive, arrogant princeling the truth of Shaine's
qu'mahlin, and he denied it. He even denied you. I
am sorry for it. You are wiser than any I have known." He
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reached down and took her hand, pulling her to her feet. "You have been truer
to your blood than I could ever hope."
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"Carillon ..."
He shook his head and released her hand. "I have a horse.
And, I believe, a shapechanger sworn to be the Mujhar's liege man. Like his
father."
Finn rose and grinned into Alix's stricken face. "There, meijha, you rid
yourself of me at last.''
She said nothing, unable to speak past the pain closing her throat.
Finn looked at Duncan. "Rujho. care for your cheysula. She is not one to be
treated lightly."
Duncan smiled and rose, sliding a hand around Alix's waist.
With the other he held out the black war bow, ornamentation gleaming.
"Here, my lord Mujhar. Finn will show you how to use it."
Carillon hesitated. "But only a Cheysuli may shoot a Cheysuli bow."
"Traditions change," Duncan said softly.
Carillon took it silently. Then he walked from the pavilion like a man turning
his back on a past, intent on making a future.
"Storr!" Alix cried.
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