Blood and Balance

Chapter 2

Author's Notes: Not mine, I swear, and all that jazz. Also, just to summarize the first chapter: Aly meets Kyprioth during a small get-together of nobles that includes Dove and other nobles her age. She believes Dove may have shown interest in one of these nobles, but does not express the sentiment to Kyprioth. Kyprioth, on the other hand, mentions the need for an heir to secure the stability of Dove's rule, and also mentions an age-old raka custom, from the time when bloodlines ran through the female rulers. This custom revolves around the practice that raka queens take on consorts and produce heirs, many times out of wedlock. Not only did this ensure the bloodline's existence, but allowed female rulers to exist and rule in their own right. Aly expresses her dissent to the custom. Later, in a meeting with Dove, Aly realizes that Dove is firmly resolved in her responsibility to her kingdom--a sentiment that can have both good and bad consequences.

Three weeks later

"I will not marry at your bidding."

The young woman who spoke stood before the towering god, her cheeks flushed with the exertion of refusing a god's will. Nevertheless, her dark eyes were calm and calculating, her voice quiet and even. Aly ruefully remembered the first time Dove had met Kyprioth, where the younger girl had thrown herself prostate in his presence. Seven years had taken the edge off of that humility—or perhaps it was only the request he made, so different from his others.

The room seemed to shimmer with Kyprioth's anger, the emotion rolling off him like waves. "You ruin our efforts on some girlish whim? I will not see centuries of effort thrown out on the—"

"The measures of diplomacy? The need for stability? It is necessary that I maintain these aspects of my kingdom, not ignore them to chase a husband. No kingdom will grant me marriage to their princes once they discover that my foothold here will always have precedence to theirs."

Her argument, at the least, was sound. Everyone in the room—Kyprioth, Aly, Dove, and Winnamine—knew it. It was his misfortune to come when the three had been talking about the subject of marriage only moments before. Dove had practiced her argument only moments before on her mother and advisor.

"I don't ask you to marry, you selfish chit; find some fellow, fall in love, and give me an heir. You know the customs of your people—unless your own stubbornness has tainted its memory."

Aly eyed Kyprioth, but said nothing. She could tell by the subtle raise in Winnamine's eyebrow that Dove's stepmother believed Kyprioth was fighting a losing battle: and Aly agreed, but for a different reason. A god could have threatened Dove the moment he came—thrown her kingdom into disarray until she conceded and married. But he had only parleyed so far with the queen, and Aly knew how to think like a trickster.

"My obstinacy, as you put it, is at the service of my country, not my private whims. Marrying a noble—even from my own country—will throw the stability I have built up into disarray. When and if I marry, it will be with the knowledge that, when I do, I can count on my kingdom to remain without rebellion or cause for it." Though Dove's voice was quiet and even, sweat was running down her cheeks. "It is too soon to take so bold a move. My advisors feel the same."

"All but your raka advisors—you know what they suggest," Kyprioth said, and Aly could see the glint in his fathomless eyes. So it was back to this, then—the alternative all her raka advisors, and even some of the progressive luarin ones, had suggested. Take a consort. Produce an heir.

Dove was silent. Aly knew the thought had crossed her mind during all those meetings, when those advisors hinted that she should take up the mantle of the copper-skinned queens of old. If she did, no one who remembered the last rebellion of the raka would question her ability to do so. Besides, they remember Imajane, Rubinyan, and the tricky webs of alliances made through marriage. Bloodline hierarchies were simpler to maintain. "It is not advice I feel will put our country in the best view," she said stiffly. Aly knew she was familiar with the luarin objectives against the wedlock custom—and perhaps even agreed with them.

"You have led a rebellion, quashed the luarin who opposed you, and put raka into their place of power—and now you worry about what other countries will think?" Kyprioth laughed, a sound that made the walls echo madly. "You are entirely in your right to take a consort, and I demand that you do! Selfish chit, I let your sister do as she pleased, but I will not allow the same for you." His voice was intense, with the undercurrents of volcanoes, tides, earthquakes. "Find a nobleman, do what you must, and give me an heir."

With that he was gone, leaving a perspiring Dove, a flushed Winnamine, and a curious Aly. She was certainly familiar with the ways of Tricksters—had she not been weaned of their tricks?—and she couldn't help but feel that Kyprioth had entered this confrontation with the incentive to lose.

After all, gods don't parley with humans.