He motioned to the thin, spidery lines on each parchment with well-known, even legendary, names reaching back past the Fall. Most important though was the number of hops to reach that treacherous boundary. The more hops, the more dissipation of power. She needed bloodlines with ample time between generations.

She focused on the most desirable bloodlines.

Kandah had glued a piece of each of the eldest Vakayne girls’ hair to their name. She thumbed each one like he did, but there was no knowledge there for her.

“Mmmhmm,” he intoned with each hair.

She could not know what he saw in each one, but she knew what she had seen even with the curtain of white mud over her eyes. The girls were exquisite. If one believed the rumors flowing out of Vakayne’s fortress, the most recent child, the third, was also a girl. Unheard of! And yet, Zaidra Vakayne was of old stock, wily and brilliant. Savra’s own bloodline. Gishna believed the rumors. She had no reason not to.

“It is very curious, high matron,” he said. “I would even say illogical if we were dealing with the regular flow of nature.”

“Explain,” she said, slumping back on the stool.

He ran a finger tinged with shimmering green ink down the long, bumpy bloodline of Zaidra Vakayne. She counted seven hops back to the fall, and one Haila Vakayne, not matron at the time of the Fall, but her daughter, Yathena, who became matron and voted at the Fourth and Fifth Accords. There’d been so much upheaval then. The matroncy had slipped to the second daughter’s bloodline. None spoke of it or raised any doubts. Saethana the Conqueror's line had been the most powerful, but even Vakayne’s second best was better than most. He pointed to the lines entering the boundary of the Fall. Such great names crowned the earlier age, and the obvious thing he meant to teach her: few hops were best, with long breaks of time between each one. That was the Mornae way.

She rubbed her belly. It had not been her way.

“So many girls in such a short span?” he asked. “An impossibility. And not just the one, but three such gems?”

“So, you think the third is a girl, too?”

“Yes, it makes sense,” he said. “Three alliances, high matron. A daughter for each founding house. How else to unite against the shared rival?”

“The Zauhune champion’s mother would stand for Xaeltrin?” she asked.

“I can’t imagine them uniting with Zauhune directly.”

“Do you think Vakayne knew about her all along? Xaeltrin hates them for the betrayal.” It felt so good to confide in him. “She had all three girls within sixty years,” she said.

He poked at a truth she was afraid to utter. “Unheard of,” he said.

“What do you suggest?” she asked. “Are the samples false? Have they shown you something hidden?”

He shook his head. “They are voravin.”

She raised a hand, holding herself upright with the other one. “How, then?”

“I don’t know.” He looked over the hierarchy of carefully drawn bloodlines. “Something is missing. A key piece.”

“We need Zaidra’s hair,” she said. “I should have searched for one at our last meeting, but she’s always bound up with a veil and coverings. We accept the official genealogy as truth. No one ever questions it.”

Was Maunyn’s urchin clever enough to get a sample? One of her spies ensconced in Vakayne’s citadel could try for one, but that would risk their placement. They’d managed the daughters’ samples because, like all young women, they couldn’t help flaunting themselves at festivals. Getting close to a High Matron was harder, even impossible. She never thought she’d need to get a sample. Zaidra projected an unassailable righteousness. Who would doubt her provenance?

“The bloodhouses are strong,” he said. “Stronger than I expected, given the turmoil. So many lost at the Fall.” He sighed like his relations had been the ones lost in the purges.

“Yes, I must have their blood as well, but who amongst them serves us best? Their lines are so tightly bound to Vakayne, so committed. And now this disruption in the arrangement.”

“Unexpected,” he said.

The Son of Zashtrin should have consorted the Vakayne heiress, but, denied by Zaidra, Matron Lor’Zashtrin had offered him to the Lor’Lauxyn heiress. She’d also absorbed an important Zauhune house and its vassals in a conspiracy the likes of which Vaidolin had not seen in centuries. The young Lauxyn matron had favored the Zauhune champion in court by giving him a Maetar spear. The murmuring still flowed through the crater as everyone wondered what was happening within Velkamas.

“Something has changed,” she said. “Vakayne no longer wants to adhere to their traditions. It was Zashtrin’s turn.”

“Indeed,” he said.

She’d been so concerned with her own affairs. What was she not seeing? First Xaeltrin’s secret return, and now this quiet rebellion of Vakayne’s bloodhouses. Of course, Vakayne was giving them cause, but why? And then there was Roturra, testing new steels at court. That had to be Daushalan’s doing. All the houses involved were loyal to it. All but Lor’Baronar and its vassals.

“So curious!” she said. “Mine is not the only conspiracy, it seems.”

“I’m not suggesting Zaidra is not a daughter of Savra, but her branch is weaker. Murky. But you must have all three daughters, matron. The work requires it.”

Gishna scoffed. “The work… the work? My house requires it!”

Kandah pursed his lips, eyes lowered.

“I will do all I can to have them all,” she said. “Saugraen will have the eldest. He must. I want that girl’s daughter in my house… mated to…” Her finger hovered over the line representing the future of her house. “The child of this union here.”

Kandah nodded. “Excellent choice.”

“And the second girl… here?”

He clapped his hands gently, irking her with a broad smile. “Perfect!” he said.

“And that hair? The black one?” she asked.

“Ah yes. Nothrin’s. I link it to colonists from Pira. Xaeltrin is a guess, but given the intrigue around the house name, we can assume it’s a good guess.”

“But not absolute?”

He shook his head slowly. “My knowledge is still weak.”

“But your people could help?” she asked, reminding him of their earlier discussion.

“The more of us working together, united, will progress the work.”

His face grew serious, and it concerned Gishna. It was a tremendous gamble bringing the valmasin back.

“Yes, I do like this union here,” he said, and continued explaining the traits and properties of the lines joined in that future daughter, the future of her house. Gishna closed her eyes and allowed herself a fantasy, a vision, of her hall full of fine, healthy Mornae.

It may be Julissa on the throne, but she would make it possible. She would put up with this strange man, with the diviners and their peevishness, and the other high houses nipping at her heels like hounds. She would risk violating the Fifth Accord to regain Hosmyr’s lost strength. To be Mornae. To shine again with the light of a thousand stars.

36

Boxes and crates lined the halls of the east valley estate. Taul had ordered the Halkamas estate emptied much to the chagrin of the house members. They’d thought their situation temporary while the high matron’s magistrates prowled their properties. They all thought her temper would cool.

He’d situated them in the outer villas and kept the main villa for the matron’s own household. It was only when dividing it all up that he realized just how vulnerable they were. He saluted a guard wearing a new tabard with the house sigil. Niral saluted in response, proud. He was young, a recent Isilmyr graduate and not yet poisoned by house politicking.

“Where are the vault crates?” Taul asked.