CHAPTER SIX

The River Lhyl, the Tyranny of Isembaard

I shbel opened the curtain that gave her tiny cabin on the riverboat some privacy, then moved toward the foredeck, where Axis and Zeboath were sitting in the twilight.

Ishbel had felt much more relaxed and at peace since the night she had healed Madarin. She now traveled with a group who knew precisely what she was—the archpriestess of the dreaded Coil—and who not only did not condemn her, but either regarded her with intrigued fascination or varying degrees of adulation (several of Madarin’s comrades had asked her, hesitantly, if perhaps she might talk to them about the Great Serpent and enlighten them).

She was accepted and to some degree respected.

She no longer had to keep secrets, or listen to a husband who asked her to hide her origins and pretend to be something she was not.

And she still had the power of the Coil within her.

Ishbel had been so unsure of herself from the moment the Great Serpent had revealed he wanted her to leave Serpent’s Nest and marry Maximilian. The realization of her pregnancy had distressed her, for she’d believed that it would disrupt the Coil within her, and separate her still further from the protection and the love of the Great Serpent.

She should have listened to the Great Serpent.

Wash with the tide.

He had not been upset by her pregnancy, and indeed had appeared pleased by it, while the experience with Madarin had demonstrated to all, and most particularly to Ishbel, that her connection with the power of the Great Serpent had not been lost at all.

Above all, having relaxed away from her fears and the draining need to constantly hide her true identity, Ishbel was beginning to enjoy herself. She found herself intrigued by the company with whom she traveled, and fascinated by the land and culture through which she moved.

It was all so different from her life within the Coil at Serpent’s Nest. Ishbel knew she’d clung to her isolation, and to the enveloping, if suffocating, protection that the mountain and the Coil afforded her, because of the childhood terrors that continued, even now, to torment her.

But she was discovering that she might learn to deal with the terrors, that she was capable of dealing with most things, and that she had more courage and fortitude than she had thought.

She also trusted Axis and Zeboath to an extent she’d trusted few people in her life.

Maximilian’s lack still managed to cause her some sleepless hours at night. She could hardly forget him, not with his baby growing inside her, but Ishbel wondered if Maximilian ever thought of her. She thought that he’d probably accepted her kidnapping with profound relief. No longer was he saddled with a wife who was not merely an embarrassment to him, but one who threatened to saddle him with the guilt of every murder and injustice committed throughout the Central Kingdoms over the last half year.

Maximilian would likely annul the marriage and forget her.

Well might Axis have said that BroadWing had told him Maximilian would tear apart the earth for her, but Ishbel thought she knew the truth of her relationship with Maximilian far better than did BroadWing.

Maximilian would not care overmuch, she was sure.

Ishbel climbed the short steps to the top deck, lifted her head, and walked out to join Zeboath and Axis.

Ishbel decided she liked this hot, vast country. It was so different from anything she’d ever known previously. She appreciated the warmth of the evening wind, and the scent of distant spices it carried on its back. She enjoyed being able to wear loose, less restrictive clothes. She was fascinated by the vast aridness that spread beyond the fertile swathes of agricultural land that ran either side of the river. But of everything, Ishbel loved the River Lhyl the most. It was so peaceful and so beautiful, so calm and yet so strong, lined with deep reed banks that, at dusk and dawn, throbbed with the glorious song of the frogs and during the day erupted great clouds of brightly plumed river birds into the air.

The river was a world to itself. To Ishbel, it sometimes appeared to be so full of promise and sweetness that her eyes filled with tears.

She felt a wonderful serenity within herself every time she stepped from the lower decks of the riverboat and once again was enveloped by the sights and scents of Isembaard.

It felt almost as if she was coming back to a long-forgotten home.

It felt right.

“My lady,” she heard Axis say, and she blinked.

He was standing before her, a gentle smile on his face at the expression on hers. He had his hand out, and she took it, and allowed him to lead her to where Zeboath waited among a group of chairs and low tables at the very prow of the boat.

With the authority of Isaiah, which he commanded, Axis had been able to requisition for them the most luxurious riverboat available.

Zeboath smiled and gave a slight bow as Ishbel and Axis approached, then sat down once Ishbel had made herself comfortable.

They chatted for an hour or more, often lapsing into comfortable silence as dusk settled about them.

Servants came with lamps, and with food and drinks, and they busied themselves with their meal.

As the meal drew to a close, Zeboath patted at his mouth with his napkin, and addressed Ishbel.

“You look very content, my lady, for someone who has been kidnapped away from her home.”

Ishbel gave a small smile, and decided to speak the truth. “Sometimes I feel as if Maximilian did the kidnapping, and you two the rescuing.” She paused. “I have never felt so relaxed with anyone, save for Aziel, archpriest of the Coil and a dear friend, as I do here, in this company.”

She looked over the railing at the twilight vista before her. “And this land—it is so…intriguing. Listen to the frogs! Are they not beautiful? And the scent on the wind…”

Axis and Zeboath exchanged amused glances.

“Maximilian has some work to do, I think,” said Axis, “if he is to win you back to his side.”

“If he can,” Ishbel said, still looking out at the view.

Then she turned her eyes back to her two companions. “Sometimes space—distance—can give you such perspective.”

“And sometimes it can be very distorting,” Axis said. “You and Maximilian met and married under pressure, and the start to your married life was not easy.”

“Certainly not when he kept asking me to pretend to be something I was not,” Ishbel said.

“You can understand his reasons, surely,” Axis said.

“Neither you nor Zeboath have condemned me for who I am,” said Ishbel, “nor any of the men who accompany us. Why did Maximilian?”

“Don’t talk yourself out of this marriage,” Axis said. “Not yet.”

She gave a small shrug.

Axis frowned, leaning forward as if to say something more, but just then Ishbel gasped, and put her hand on her belly.

“The baby moved!” she said. “I am sure of it.”

She looked at Zeboath. “Can you feel? Am I right? Oh, it moved again!”

Zeboath moved his chair closer to her, resting his hand on her belly. He felt in one place, then another, then grinned at her. “Yes, Ishbel, the baby is moving.”

“Oh,” Ishbel said on a long breath, “it is not dead, after all. I’d been so worried after the poisons Ba’al’uz gave me.”

“Well,” said Zeboath, sitting back in his chair, “I think that baby is making up for lost time now.”

Ishbel sat for a moment, her face a welter of different emotions. Then she leaned over to Axis, took one of his hands, and put it on her belly.

“Axis? Feel?”

He said nothing, and Ishbel looked into his face and saw there, for the first time since she’d met him, the unmistakable darkness of desire.

It was a complete revelation, and Ishbel sat back slowly as Axis’ hand slid away from her body, and allowed the world to open up about her.