Swallowing Darkness - Laurell K. Hamilton [88]
“Meredith, Mistral. My name is Meredith, or even Merry, when we are alone.”
The door opened with no knock, and I knew by that that it would be Sholto. He came in, his face very obviously not happy.
“What has happened?” Doyle asked.
“Your mother has sent a message. She demands proof that you are well, or the Seelie are prepared to do more than just camp outside the sluagh’s mound.”
“Are they truly willing to attack you?” I asked.
“Whether they would do it, I cannot say, but that they threaten it is true enough.”
“Do they not understand what they risk?” Doyle asked.
“I think they see no humans to tattle on them, and we have all made small battles one against the other where the humans have not seen them. We do not bear tales to the humans.”
“Taranis changed that when he went to the human authorities and accused my men of rape.”
“That was…odd,” Sholto said.
“And if we can get to the human authorities, we will return the favor, but with a true crime,” I said, and even to me I sounded grim.
Doyle hugged me, and I slid my arms around the warm bareness of him.
“We can speak on the court mirror to your mother.” Sholto got a strange look on his face.
“What is it?” Mistral asked.
“I just realized that this will be the first time I’ve spoken to my mother-in-law.”
Doyle startled in my arms. “I have thought of Besaba as an enemy for so long, but you are right. She is Meredith’s mother.”
“No, she only gave birth to me,” I said. “You have seen the death of the only woman who earned the right to be called my mother. Gran raised me with my father. My mother wants me now only because she thinks it may make her the mother of the queen of the Seelie. Before Taranis began to show interest in me, she cared nothing for me.”
“She is your mother,” Sholto said.
I shook my head, still wrapped in Doyle’s arms. “I believe that you must earn that title. It’s another by-product of being raised among the humans. I don’t believe that just giving birth earns you anything.”
“The Christians believe that you must honor your father and mother,” Doyle said.
“True, but ask most Americans and they’ll tell you you have to earn that respect.”
“Do you wish to ignore Besaba’s request then?” Sholto asked.
“No. She’s pretending to be the aggrieved party. We must show her that there’s no reason to be aggrieved.” I gazed up at Doyle. “Would it be good or bad to have Doyle and Mistral at my side? Would you prefer that it be just you and me, Sholto?”
“I think a show of force is called for,” he said. He looked at the other two men. “If you have no objection, I think Meredith and myself in front as king and queen with you at our sides, and some of my other guards behind us. Let us remind them what they would fight.”
That seemed to meet with everyone’s approval. Sholto said, smiling, “I think I have some clothes that will fit you both, though Mistral’s a little bigger through the shoulders. Maybe an open jacket with no shirt, a very barbarian king.”
“I will wear what you like,” Mistral said. “I appreciate you letting us stay at Meredith’s side in this moment.”
“Those of the Seelie who are not afraid of the sluagh will fear the Queen’s Darkness and Mistral, Lord of Storms.”
“It is long since I have had the power to do what my name says.”
“You hold the spear that once belonged to the Thunderer. Taranis’s mark of power is in your hands, Storm Lord.”
“I think,” Doyle said, “that that is information best not shared with the Seelie. They are already here for the chalice. If Taranis knew that one of his objects of power had chosen another hand to guide it….” Doyle shook his head and put his hands out, as if grasping for a word.
I finished the thought for him. “Taranis would go apeshit.”
“Apeshit?” Doyle made it a question, then nodded. “I was going to say that he would kill us all, but yes, that term will do.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
DOYLE AND MISTRAL FIT NICELY IN SHOLTO’S CLOTHES, BUT then except for Rhys and myself, all the sidhe I knew were around six feet tall. The men were all broad of shoulder, narrow of waist, and well built.