The Silence of Medair

"I won’t say it’s impossible to get a force into Finrathlar without the entire valley rushing to the defence, but an invader would need to know a few well-guarded secrets to manage to take us by surprise."

Nodding, Medair glanced back across the valley to where the Imperial base had been. Damp and unpleasant, but a haven when those bandits had made such pests of themselves. Belatedly, she noticed Avahn’s stillness. He was staring at her with wide, disbelieving eyes, swiftly veiled when she turned. The base could only be one of those well-guarded secrets and now he was suspicious and alert. She had hoped this ride would allow her to gently pursue such interesting topics as "the Hold" and "the purists", and she’d just made the task doubly difficult.

Cursing herself, Medair ignored his sudden withdrawal as if she had no comprehension of what she or he may well have revealed. "After Amaret," she repeated, blandly. "What was Amaret? Some sort of battle?"

He laughed, startled, and shook his head. The smile returned to his lips, but the watchfulness did not leave his eyes. "It’s sometimes difficult to remember that you claim only the vaguest knowledge of society. Keris Amaret was Cor-Ibis' wife."

So Medair had guessed. "She died then? I don’t understand why he would need to take an heir from his cousins. Did he swear undying loyalty to her memory or something?"

"Not many people would be able to say that with a straight face, unless they truly were ignorant of the truth. No, Keris Amaret left him, and he certainly didn’t regret her going. I was young when they wed and don’t know if they ever even liked each other. It was only a sha-leon marriage after all. A political alliance. But the end was enough to put anyone off marriage in general."

"I must be misremembering what I know of Ibisian society. I thought marriage was no more required for the getting of heirs than it is in any other land."

Avahn shrugged and nudged his gelding to a few slow steps. "What do you know of the previous Keridahl Cor-Ibis?" he asked.

"She was this one’s mother," Medair replied, promptly.

He waited until it was obvious that she wasn’t going to continue, then looked as if he suspected she was being deliberately obtuse. "Very well. Yes, Keridahl Galen was my esteemed cousin’s mother. She was Keridahl Alar, Regent when the Kier was too young to rule, an adept of such strength that only her son is known to have surpassed her. Galen Never-Wrong. That was meant to be an insult, but as my father says, it was too close to true to sting. A frightening reputation, a formidable woman. I remember the first time we came to The Avenue, just before the Kier was crowned. My parents had lectured me for days about how to behave, how to not offend. I was eight and terrified and when I saw her she was this quiet, rather plain woman and she had the rarest, most lovely smile. She could charm the birds from the trees just by listening to them, and she saw nothing unusual in spending her afternoon indulging a child’s desire to be introduced to every beast in her stable. By the end of the day I had asked her if she could be my mother." He met Medair’s eyes and shrugged. "My own mother hates horses. Keridahl Galen seemed like perfection to me. I envied my esteemed cousin her above all else."

Avahn stopped speaking, and sent his gelding into a trot. Medair matched him easily, waiting until he had slowed.

"So you didn’t want to admire him, didn’t want to perform to win his approval, but you couldn’t help yourself at times."

His eyes narrowed and he deliberately looked her up and down, an expressionless blonde woman on a chestnut horse, who knew Finrathlar’s secrets when she should not. But then he smiled, regaining at least the appearance of a light heart. "You remind me of Cor-Ibis, actually, but you’re more talkative. Now what was it I was saying? Ah, yes. My cousin and his need for heirs. He married Keris Amaret when he was only twenty, at his mother’s recommendation. Even after Kierash Inelkar contracted a child with Kerikath las Reive, many thought that Keridahl Cor-Ibis would arrange things between her son and the Kierash, that there would be a final rejoining of the lines after all these centuries. But they were wrong, as usual, when it came to dealing with her. A marriage, even sha-leon, put an end to any speculation that Kerin Illukar would marry Kierash Inelkar."

Avahn hesitated. "When it was announced, it was thought confirmation that Keridahl Galen objected to the Farak-lar strain of blood in the Saral-Ibis line. The purists make a great deal of it still."

Somehow, Medair didn’t have it in her to be pleased that Cor-Ibis' mother had been as arrogantly superior as any other White Snake. "Are they right to do so?"