Free Lady Warhawk by Michelle L. Levigne Page B

interrupting
Meghianna's somber thoughts. "Too dangerous, and she would have made everyone
miserable."
    "Even with the Warhawk's heir as her guest?" she murmured. That earned a snort and a
crooked grin from Pirkin. "I felt Mrillis weaving some tight magical knots when he was riding
with you earlier. More guarding magic for the castle?"
    "Warning spells and bracelets we're all to wear, to help us find each other if the castle is
attacked and we're separated." He held up his hand, displaying the thin chain of star-metal he
wore. With her sight turned sideways, Meghianna saw a thick, intricate braiding of Threads
through the links of the chain. She was awed, but not at all surprised, at the amount of time and
energy Mrillis expended on keeping Pirkin and his family safe.
    * * * *
    The next morning, their party rode down to the port where the fleet of ships waited to
take King Markas and his party on their bi-yearly trip to the Warhawk's fortress. Meghianna,
Lycen and Athrar were all disguised, with hair dyed dark brown and stain rubbed into their skin
to give them healthy tans. They masqueraded as a traveling healer and her two sons, and were
quartered with Markas, his queen Lyriel, their son Karrel, daughter, Lyrissa, and Markas' ward
and niece, Indreseen.
    Meghianna disliked Indreseen from the moment she laid eyes on the girl--and feared her
dislike was even stronger because the girl gave her no reason at all for the reaction. Indreseen
was thirteen, delicate, with golden-white hair, green eyes, natural curls, and a way of dancing as
she walked. Prince Karrel ignored her, but Princess Lyrissa adored her cousin. Megassa's sons
were spellbound. Lycen smiled a little too much for Meghianna's taste.
    Athrar stared. Meghianna might have found that amusing, but Indreseen stared right
back. For increasingly longer periods, until an almost visible tie existed between the two.
    "There's no reason for me to dislike her so intensely. She's well-mannered, kind, and
good-natured with the servants. Maybe because she blushes so much. It makes me wonder what
she's up to. She can't be that innocent," Meghianna confided to Megassa, their second day at
sea.
    "I'm going through the same with Lok," her sister admitted. "It's what all mothers go
through. No girl is good enough for her son."
    Meghianna opened her mouth to protest, then stopped short with the words caught in her
throat. She supposed Megassa was right.
    "Someone ought to warn Glyssani. She's looking forward to getting her son back,
physically, and she'll find he's lost already."
    "I think some judicious testing is necessary." Megassa tipped her head to one side and
studied the cluster of boys on the deck below them, with Lyrissa and Indreseen in their center,
too much like a swarm of bees around two very delicate flowers. "It would be wise to get to
know her, to make sure she's as wholesome as she seems. Despite their ages... Well, they would
make a good match. And she seems quite as smitten with our brother as he is with her."
    "A match." Meghianna shuddered, deep inside.
    Politically, the match was brilliant. Indreseen was related to two-thirds of the most
powerful kingdoms on Moerta. As the ward of Welcairn's king and queen, she had that political
connection. Meghianna almost found some amusement in anticipating the dismay and frustration
of all those court ladies and their meddling parents, when they tried to latch onto the heir to the
Warhawk's throne, and found him already claimed by a girl who had just crossed the sea from
Moerta for the first time in her life.
    Early on the third day at sea, a long, low rumble of thunder seemed to vibrate up from
the seabed and down from the dome of the sky, catching Meghianna between the two waves of
sound so she felt squashed flat. She nearly went to her knees before Lycen raced across the deck
of Markas' magnificent, huge ship, and caught her arm. He guided her to a seat on a nearby step
from one level of the deck to another, and rubbed her