Voice of the Lost : Medair Part 2 Read Free Page B

COLD SNAKE THINKS TO RULE FARAKKIAN TERRITORY.  THERE WILL BE NO END TO WAR UNTIL THE ROT IS CUT OUT.  CAN YOU DENY THAT? "
    Medair suspected he was right, but shied from the slaughter he seemed to consider the solution.  Did Estarion plan to hunt down every Ibisian on Farakkan, after razing Athere?  What of those like Ileaha, who were also Farakkian?  Or those with barely a drop of cold blood?  And yet, and yet–   She started to raise a hand to her head, then restrained herself, too aware of all who watched her through the gloom.  Ibisians.  White Snakes.  She would not show weakness before them.
    " AFTER THE BATTLE, SEEK ME OUT, MEDAIR AN RYNSTAR.  THERE IS SOMEONE I WISH YOU TO MEET; A TRUE DESCENDANT OF THE ONE TO WHOM YOU GAVE OATH. "
    He was talking of the heir he supported – or used as banner and excuse for war.  Said to descend from Verium, her Emperor's son, a line long kept hidden and protected until the moment came to return them too their rightful place on the Silver Throne.  And Medair knew very well that it was possible, that Verium had been involved with the woman said to have borne a true Corminevar heir.  Had she turned her back on him, this Tarsus, so-called Emperor-in-Exile?
    And it was all too long ago, too muddied and tangled.  For Kier Inelkar descended from Medair's Emperor as well, and her throne had been won in conquest, making questions of legitimacy secondary.  More to the point, thousands of Farakkians, loyal Atherians with no drop of White Snake blood, would give their lives to protect their Kier.  To them, Decia was nothing but an invader, and Tarsus an irrelevancy.
    Numbness gripped Medair, the crushing weight of impossible choice she had struggled with all year.  She shifted her gaze to the box which held what had been meant to be the salvation of the Empire.
    " NOW.  INELKAR.  HAS IT YET OCCURRED TO YOU THAT THE HORN OF FARAK WILL NOT ANSWER YOUR COLD BLOOD? "
    Estarion chuckled, a rumble of thunder in the night.  The glint of fire on metal served as lightning.  Out among the massed troops, torches were being lit.  They flared like stars, thousands upon thousands of points of light.  Medair's attention was briefly torn from the almost mesmeric influence of the metal-bound box.  She saw with a shudder that Estarion's army was holding aloft not torches, but burning swords.  The wind carried the tang of hot metal, and a faint whisper of words she could not understand.  Then Estarion's voice boomed again.
    " WHITE SNAKE, PALE INVADER.  YOU BURIED ANY TRACE OF FARAK BENEATH GENERATIONS OF OUTLAND BLOOD.  IT IS – "
    "Could he be right?" the Kier asked.
    " – A SOURCE OF AMAZEMENT TO ME THAT YOU COULD HOPE TO USURP – "
    "It is all too possible, Ekarrel ," Antellar, the Keridahl Alar, replied.  "We were not certain what the Horn would do before the Conflagration, let alone in the world we now face. "
    " – THIS AS WELL.  FARAK WILL NOT ANSWER YOU, INELKAR!  THE HORN OF FARAK SERVES THE CHILDREN OF FARAKKAN ALONE!  AND, MOST MAGNIFICENT IRONY, YOU HAVE OBTAINED A WEAPON YOU DARE NOT ALLOW BE USED BY ANY NOT OF YOUR OWN BLOOD.  FROZEN, CREEPING WHITE SNAKE.  HOW COULD YOU RISK GIVING THE HORN INTO THE HANDS OF ONE WHO TRULY IS OF THIS LAND?  DO YOU KNOW THE HEARTS OF THOSE YOU RULE?  OF THOSE WHO SHOULD BE RULING IN YOUR PLACE?  WHO WOULD THE WARRIORS OF FARAK CUT DOWN? "
    Who indeed?  Medair stared down at the box.  If she used the Horn, would Farak make the final judgment on who deserved death?  That was a path Medair had never thought to take, and it seemed to her both right and just.  Almost of its own volition, one of her hands lifted.
    Cool fingers caught hers.
    "There is compulsion in his words," Cor-Ibis murmured, lifting her hand to study tight-strapped bandages.  "This is a choice which, if you need to make it, should be made without such."  He added a word beneath his breath, the trigger for what must have been a dispell.  A cool breeze