Mena cleared her throat, finding the opening kindness somewhat disconcerting. "Thank you," she said.
"We are coming to times of great sacrifice," Corinn said. "Much will be asked of all of us. Much taken from each of us. You may believe, though, that Melio will be in my prayers just as much as you are, Sister, just as much as Dariel is." Corinn did not give Mena time to fumble through a response to that. She came around the table, but instead of approaching Mena she moved off to the side slightly, stopping beside another table. "I want you to have this. The King's Trust. It is your blade now. No one deserves it more than you."
The King's Trust? She did not know whether she wanted that blade. Too ancient. Too much history tempered in blood. If the legends of it were true, Tinhadin himself had infused it with Santoth sorcery, making it a blade that learned from each contest it fought and took something from each person it killed. Hadn't Tinhadin's grandson used it to execute prisoners? Something he wished to do personally and with only this sword.
"I have a blade," Mena said.
"Your Marah sword is special to you, I know," Corinn acknowledged. "I know well the tale of how you crawled out of the sea with it strapped to your wrist and became that bird god of yours, Maeben. And, true, perhaps the blade is a blessing to you. You've certainly accomplished much with it. But this"-she motioned as if to direct Mena's attention to the ancient sword, something she did not need to do because her eyes were already fixed on it-"this is the very blade that Edifus wielded with his own hand at Carni. It's stained with his blood. Look there on the hilt. That blackened area: that is the blood of the king's hand. I'm sure you know the details better than I-how he almost lost his hand when he caught a foe's blade pinched in his grip."
Mena's fingers itched. A real physical sensation. Of their own accord, they wanted to wrap around the stained hilt and slip the blade free. That's what her body cried to do. She held back. She put one hand to her chest, felt for the eel pendant beneath the fabric of her shirt. She pressed it. There must be awful power in this sword, for the look of it was nothing special. Old, battered, within a simple scabbard with few ornaments, and yet something in her so wanted to pull the blade free.
The last time she had touched that blade was in the hours after Aliver's death. She had picked it up only long enough to wrap it in a burlap cloth and stow it snugly with the king's possessions. When next she spoke of it, she gave other soldiers instructions on how to care for it and return it to Acacia safely. Since then, she had had no wish to handle it again.
"Why do you stand there gaping at it?" Corinn asked, a touch of annoyance in her voice. "It's a great gift. It's mine to give, and I offer it to you as a demonstration of my faith in you. You are worthy of it. Pick it up."
This last was an order, no other way to interpret the tone. Despite herself, Mena grasped the scabbard midway down the hilt and lifted it, horizontal, before her.
"Do you accept it?"
"Yes," Mena said, and then specified, "for now. I'll take it into safekeeping, and use it if I must. One day, though, I'll return it to you, so that you can give it to Aaden. It's rightfully his."
That seemed to please Corinn. "Good. Yes, good on both counts." She nodded.
With that confirmation, Mena laid the sword down again.
"Now," Corinn said, sharpening the edge on her voice, "I give you this sword for a reason. You have a mission, Mena. I can trust it only to you. Even if our brother were with us, this task would go to you. You, more than Dariel, are the wrath that drives the Akaran sword hand. You will soon have to make use of it." She paused, looking frankly at Mena. "I would have used this language no matter what, but since seeing you fighting the Numrek I mean it with much more sincere certainty. Thank you for what you did, Mena. I had only heard of your feats. I believed in them, but I didn't understand them. Now I think I do, a little, at least."
Of all the many persons-generals and foot soldiers, Marah and warriors from around the provinces-who had praised her martial abilities, none had ever touched her with quite the sense of pride Corinn just did.
"I have received firsthand intelligence that the Auldek will begin their march during their own winter. They're timing it that way, so that even if they suffer in the early weeks they'll still have solid ice on which to cross the frozen seas above the Ice Fields. Comparing that with league reconnaissance, we estimate that if they are unchallenged they could arrive on the Mein Plateau by midsummer."
"That's so soon," Mena said.
"Yes. Too soon. Look at these charts with me." She motioned Mena nearer. When they stood side by side, Corinn drew her finger up along the western coast of the Known World, from the Lakelands north, along the Ice Fields, and beyond the boundary that had normally bordered Acacian maps. "I proposed a way to delay them. A small force could hold them for some time along the pass through which they will likely traverse from their lands into ours. It's a narrow strip of land, all of it mountainous. If they would sail, they could bypass it, but the Auldek fear the sea. So they'll have to thread their entire force through a series of narrow passes. It wouldn't be easy in any event, but I plan for us to make it very much harder indeed."
She is sending me to my death, Mena thought. For a moment she pondered whether that should offend her. Was it a bigger crime to send a sibling to her death, or did it show a sort of valor on her part?
"Perhaps you'll even repel them. Perhaps you'll decide the war right there in the far north. That would give the singers something to bray about, wouldn't it?"
Mena nodded. That's what her sister wanted her to do. That's what her queen expected of her, and-though she still didn't entirely understand-she felt powerless to deny her. What else could she do in the face of Corinn's certainty?
"We'll arrange a meeting tomorrow with all those on Acacia who can advise you, but you'll need to leave soon. Very soon. I've arranged a sloop for you leaving three days hence, to carry you first to Denben; then you'll go by land along the Tabith way. By the time you arrive there, your main generals will have gathered, and soon you'll head north. Your troops will mostly be Candovian, though I'm putting out a call for volunteers, with the promise of considerable rewards for those who accept. Maybe some of Dariel's raiders will join you. They're supposed to like a good fight, aren't they?" She smiled. "These are just sketches of the details. Tomorrow, you can ask all the specific questions you like and have them answered. I know how much I ask, but whom can I ask but she whom I trust most? Mena-Sister-Akaran, do you accept this mission?"
"Of course," Mena said. You've left me no choice, really, Corinn-Sister-Akaran.
"Wonderful!" Corinn said, smiling radiantly. "Make the brutes regret they ever left home. I know you will." She rounded the desk again, her fingers trailing over the papers there as she did. Thinking the meeting over, Mena turned to leave.
"By the way," Corinn asked, in a matter-of-fact tone, "what will you do with Elya while you are gone?"
"I don't know. As I said before, she is not built for war. I-"
Corinn interrupted her. "That's become clear to me. I hope you know that she is welcome to stay here. Nothing would make me happier, in fact."
Really? That Mena had not expected. "Really?"
"Of course." Corinn stepped around the desk and extended her hand, fingers beckoning. Unsure, Mena lifted one of her hands and let her sister grasp it. "She did save Aaden's life, after all. Mena, I was wary of her. The way you arrived-quite frightening, really. I thought she might hide some corruption just below the surface, but I've seen no sign of it at all. And she more than proved herself by what she did for Aaden. I may just grow to love her as you do. And Aaden, you know how he adores her. It would do him so much good to have her here to greet him when he awakes. One fine thing within all this madness. Do say that you'll let her stay here. She may reside in your courtyards, just as she has been doing."