- Chapter 10: The Determination of Some Affairs of Iom -

The moment Deanna's feet slipped out of bed and touched the floor, he felt Natasha's hand fasten onto his arm.

"Don't leave us," she said, in a voice almost like weeping.

"I explained last night," he answered, keeping himself from looking at her. "If I don't take care of this... people will die. Besides, I'll only be gone two weeks at most."

"Too long. I'm six months pregnant, Deanna... I need you right now. Send someone else."

"I can't... That's what they'll expect me to do."

"Who's 'they'?"

"I don't know... Edwin, maybe. Lord Jared, probably. Someone wants to keep Edwin in charge, or put me on the throne; it only makes sense. If I don't take care of this myself... I may have to be... king. Then I'll barely have any time for you... in the last months before Carla's born."

"You don't have to do this." He heard her shifting on the bed, and felt her lay a kiss on his middle finger. "Let's just get out of here, away from these people and their thrones. Back to Hal and Shim and the others." She kissed the back of his hand, then his wrist. "They still need us. We can have the baby away from this mess..." She worked her kisses up his arm. It was getting hard to concentrate; Deanna couldn't help but think of how good her lips always felt on his, and how easy it would be to curl back into bed with her and pretend there was no reason to leave.

He swallowed. "People... need us... to do this... to find Aaron's heir."

"You're exaggerating. Edwin can rule, or Warderer's heir, or whoever..." Her lips went above his elbow, and her hair brushed against his skin.

"Stop it..." he pleaded. The lure of physical pleasure was only moderately enticing, especially with Natasha's engorged abdomen, but the reminder of the more subtle expressions of her love, of the simple joy of being with her, and of the family he was sundering, was torture. Her temptations pained him all the more because he knew that he wasn't going to give in to them.

"Just stay here. Please."

"I can't..." He stood up, pulled his arm free of her grasp, and began putting on his clothes. "I can't," he repeated.

He hated the words, hated that he'd voiced them, even knowing they were right. The silence it left between them was even worse. He feared she would think he was doing this out of insensitivity, that he didn't realize how important it was for him to be with her at this delicate stage.

His heart sighed with relief when she broke the silence. "You won't even look at me."

"I don't want this to be... even harder than it already is." Completely dressed, he picked up his sword in its scabbard and reached for the door.

"That's it, then." Deanna stopped. Her voice was surprisingly calm, and... something else. "You'd rather find a king for these people than stay with me and Carla. I guess we're just not as important to you. I had no idea when I married you that your love was so fickle."

Deanna was still a moment longer. Then he dropped his sword.

He couldn't do it. He could make an unshakable argument for his going, but to have Natasha think he did not love her was unbearable. He could survive losing her love, but not her feeling that she'd lost his. The situation was familiar in a few ways, he realized. But this time, it was physically impossible to take her with him, and sending others to look for Aaron's heir would only be risking innocent lives, not abandoning them.

He turned and went back to her, head hung in shame.

Seeing him approach, Natasha's cool expression melted into sudden remorse. "Oh gods no - I didn't mean that..." He took her in his arms, pulled her tight against him, and she sobbed into his shoulder. "Oh gods I'm so sorry, I can't believe I said that to you. I'm a horrible person... horrible..."

"No, you're not," he said, rubbing her back to soothe her. "You're just... asking for what you and Carla deserve... as a wife and daughter. ...We'll tell Edwin to begin an official search. I'm staying with you."

"No." She pushed away from him slightly and looked into his eyes, trembling with emotion. "Do what you have to. If you stay because of me... that would prove I don't love you, and I love you more than my life, even more now than before we married. The way you want to help people is one of the things I love about you... I won't take that away." He watched her sad eyes with concern, and she answered his look, "We'll be fine. The midwife is here, and there's Jengh and Frecor."

"I'll have Dust watch over you, too."

"No, he should go with you. You'll be in more danger than me."

"I... I really wish that were true." He ran a hand through her hair. "But we already have people out to kill us, remember, and everyone knows you're here. No one will know where I am. And you're carrying two lives, against my one."

Natasha flinched at that last summation. "Deanna! Don't even think about dying on me!" She gripped his arms as though he were dangling over a cliff edge. "I won't die without you or anything corny like that, but... I don't even want to think about what life would be like with you gone forever. Please..."

"I'll be back. Nothing could stop me from seeing you again."

She giggled weakly. "Now you're being corny. But you really mean it, don't you?" He didn't need to answer. "I don't deserve you... after those horrible things I said. I knew they were lies even when I said them. I know how much you love us."

"We all say things we don't mean to the people we love." He smiled. "I should tell you some of the things my father and my brother have said to me."

"But you never say those sorts of things," she pointed out. After a second she sighed and looked down. "We should... just stop. I'm keeping you here longer than you should by talking like this... just go. We'll be waiting here for you, and... wait." Her grip on him tightened again. "Give me a goodbye kiss."

Deanna leaned forward, and they clung to each other in a warm embrace until they both had to stop for air. On impulse they kissed again, their lips meeting for only a brief spark this time, and he parted from her arms.

"I love you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. He said the same to her, picked up his sword, and left.

--

Jengh and Frecor were waiting for him by the barracks, but first Deanna went outside of the capital, to the nearby woods. He wandered in deep enough that he was sure his brother's agent would not be shy about revealing himself.

He cleared his throat. "Dust?"

The leaves seemed to breathe forth the man. "I take it you have something that can't wait, Master Deanna?"

Deanna looked at him curiously. "Do... do you ever sleep?"

"At times. Now please state your business, or I'll return to my shadows."

"I want you to stay with Natasha and Carla while I'm gone."

Dust chuckled. "My prerogative in life is protecting you, Master Deanna. And even I can't be in two places at once."

"You'll protect me best by looking after them." His voice hardened. "Natasha and Carla... they're my family. Do you understand? Aside from my duty to Iom and to my brother's memory, they're the only thing that makes my life worthwhile. If they die... First I'll hunt down everyone responsible and make them pay. Then I'll make sure that Iom has a king who can keep the country stable." He took a heavy breath. "And then I'll end it. There will be no more reason good enough for me to go on."

"Suppose I don't believe you?"

"It's true. I..." A thought struck him. "And you care about protecting Carla, too, don't you? She's Hindel's niece... the closest thing he'll ever have to a child." He said it as an observation, not an argument.

"Don't presume that you know anything about me, Master Deanna."

Deanna cast his eyes to the branches beneath his feet. "I'm sorry. ...I understand how you feel... not liking other people to know things about you - or say they know things, I mean." He sighed. "Please. I'm doing what you wanted me to do... saving Iom. Even if protecting Natasha and Carla isn't what you want to do, and I think it is... can't you do it as a favor to me?"

"...You're a lot like your brother, you know," Dust remarked. "Except that he rarely said the things he meant."

He looked at Dust for a few moments. "Is that a yes?"

Dust chuckled, gave a nod, and disappeared back into the leaves.

--

"There ya are."

Deanna looked up. "I thought... you were waiting in the barracks, Frecor..."

"Just wanted to talk at you for a sec, man to man." He came beside Deanna and moved into step with him. Deanna slowed his strides so that Frecor's short legs could keep up. "How did your wife take it, all considered?"

Deanna pondered how to answer that succinctly. "...She accepted it very well. She's a strong person."

"It did upset her, then." He paused. "You'll be back for the birth, won't you?"

Deanna's brow furrowed. "Natasha's not due for three months, and even if... the worst happens, this search can't take more than one month. How could I not be back?"

"You be sure of that, no effort spared." He gave Deanna a sharp look. "When my wife was pregnant, I went off to prepare defenses against Cypress. Missed both our kids being born, same way."

It sounded like there was more, but Frecor did not continue. "And?" he prodded.

"Let's just say I immediately regretted it and I still regret it, long story short."

They came upon the barracks, where Lieutenant Jengh was waiting with arms folded. Behind him was a man with a priest's staff, and a surprisingly lean lizardman. That made Deanna a bit uncomfortable. Though he'd expected that Jengh's selection would be a lizardman, he had hoped his guess would prove wrong.

"This is Lym," Jengh introduced. "And Frecor's man, Wallor."

The name "Lym" struck Deanna as a bit feminine, and looking more carefully, he realized it was a lizardwoman. Without thinking, he remarked, "I thought you'd have picked someone... a bit more muscular."

Lym reddened. "I'm the fasssstest and mossst agile soldier in lieutenant Jengh'sss rankssss, I'll have you know! And the -"

"- leasssst strong," Jengh cut in, giving Lym a look. "You were worried about a traitor, therefore I give you the sssoldier who would be leassst capable of breaking you."

"I... I see. Thank you." The error he'd made with his comment did not escape him, and he said to the lizardwoman, "I wasn't questioning that you're the best person for the job. You look very... seasoned."

"Figured a healer would be the best person for the job, your survival being," Frecor said. "Wallor's good at his job, and a decent fighter."

"The horses are carrying three days worth of food, blankets, maps, and more than enough money," Jengh added. "If you need anything more, send us a message."

"Thank you." He looked at the horse with some trepidation. Though his brother had forced him into some rudimentary riding, he had never managed more than a slow trot, and the beasts still made him nervous. After a moment, he took a breath and mounted in one swift motion. He looked around himself, slightly dazed by his new height. Then, remembering one last thing, he looked down to Jengh and Frecor and said, "Can you please keep an eye on Lord Jared? He wouldn't do Natasha any harm - we wouldn't have been so safe these past few weeks otherwise - but I don't like the way he miscommunicated my intentions to Edwin. His excuse made sense, but I still don't..."

"We understand," Jengh said. "If he behaves susssspiciously, he'll be dealt with."

Deanna wasn't sure what that meant, but... "Thanks... both of you."

--

In spite of himself, Leifo was beginning to lose hope. Pasha still refused to reveal Prince Amelo's location, and no further leads had come up; the rest of Warderer's family were all deep in hiding, save those which had been killed or imprisoned upon the king's fall. He was beginning to wonder if Pasha in fact did know nothing, and certainly his... associate, for lack of a better word... was of no help at all. He was interested almost solely in this "ritual".

Leifo trusted that the ritual would satisfy Iom, but surely it was essential to preserve the nation that served him as well. And truth be told, Leifo felt a certain loyalty to his country that had no connection to its usefulness to his god. For those fools in the capital to try to resurrect a finished dynasty would be the end of any peace in the nation.

But what can I do to stop it? he asked of Iom, kneeling before the statue on the altar. I have limited men to search for Warderer's heir. If Pasha doesn't speak soon, I'll have no hope of finding him in time. I implore you, almighty Iom... show me the way...

The heavy door of the shrine closed, and the sound echoed through the vast chamber, startling Leifo out of his prayer. He turned his head to see who had come in.

"You are high priest Leifo, correct?" It was a tall man, too shadowed over by the flickering candlelight to properly make out his features. His voice had a sort of sad desperation to it.

"I am," Leifo said, getting to his feet and giving a slight bow of his head. "How may I help you?"

"The first question should be, how may I help you?" The man strode across the vast room, and as he got closer Leifo could see that he was surprisingly young, with a comely splash of hair. "Many people in Iom must be interested in where King Warderer's son is. Are you one of them?"

"Perhaps," Leifo said, wondering what the man's game was.

"You are Iom's high priest, so I thought you would be," the man said. "Well, then. You wanted to know how you can help me. Do you know of Deanna and Natasha?"

"I do."

"I want them dead."

Leifo started. "It so happens that I wouldn't mind having them dead myself, but are you not bold to openly state that you wish the deaths of two of the most popular people in Iom to a man who could have you executed with a wave of his hand?"

"I know a few things about you," the man said, with a confident smile. Leifo began to sweat; the man's dangerous topics of conversation, his brisk pace for that conversation, and his strange manner, were altogether unnerving. "You know the role those two played in Iom's defeat, and you are loyal to your god. In short, I guessed that you would not object to their deaths. But more importantly, I sincerely doubt you would have me executed knowing the valuable information I have for you."

"In exchange for Deanna and Natasha's deaths, I presume?"

The man shook his head. "There's no need for you to sully your hands. I only need access to their quarters... I will do the black deed myself."

"I don't strike bargains with strangers," Leifo said, rubbing at his wrists. "Tell me who you are and who sent you."

"I will not tell you anything about myself. Don't bother asking."

"Then I cannot help you." Leifo side-stepped towards the door, not daring to turn his back. "Leave as soon as you've made your offering to Iom, or I will have the guards escort you out."

"That's rash of you. I'm sure that, for the information I have, you'll be happy to bargain with a stranger."

"You mentioned King Warderer's son, so I assume you have some lead on his location. A half stale one, no doubt."

The man laughed. It sounded like a forced laugh, but even so, it made Leifo tremble. Were he in almost any other place than before Iom's sacred altar, he would have screamed for the guards a while ago. Even a madman wouldn't dare attack me here.

"No, I wouldn't say that," the man said at the end of his laugh. He leaned in and whispered, "My 'lead' is the exact location of the house he lives in."