Agnith's Promise: The Vildecaz Talents, Book 3 (10 page)

He took her hands and helped her to stand, as well as keeping the sajah around her. “You’ll need breakfast soon. What would you like me to order?”

“I don’t think I’m ready to eat,” she said, a little unsteady on her legs.

“You’ll need its strength,” he said. “The wind is picking up, and we need to get back into our suite before someone sees you.”

She stared down at her feet, suddenly unwilling to meet his eyes. “I hope this hasn’t all been for nothing – coming so far with no news of my father, and . . . and all the rest of it.”

“I don’t consider it nothing,” he said as he turned her to the closed stable-door. “You have accepted me as your Official Suitor – that wouldn’t have happened if you’d stayed home, would it?” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and started her toward the door, walking slowly while she regained her footing.

“Probably not,” she allowed.

“And you wouldn’t have spoken with the Golozath Oracle – “

” – who might have led me astray,” she said with a rush of sadness.

“It’s possible. And it may be that the Oracle spoke true, but in such a way as you might interpret what it said amiss. Oracles are often deliberately ambiguous, making sense after the fact, not before. You said the Oracle was terse – that may have
been as much to limit its information as to be brusque with you.” He laughed gently. “But how would you have felt if you hadn’t spoken with the Oracle? Suppose you had remained in Vildecaz, with no information of any kind. It wouldn’t reassure you, would it, to be in ignorance of any possible intelligence. Without some suggestions to guide you, you would flounder and blame yourself for your father’s absence. Your doubts would be much greater than they are, and you would still be trying to find your father, no matter what.”

“I probably would,” she said, reluctantly leaning against him. “But I’m afraid that I could search all the towns and villages in the north and still not find him. And I can’t take the years that would be needed to make such a search – I can’t stay away from Vildecaz much longer, but I don’t want to abandon my father.”

“You have done your utmost to find him, and that’s all anyone – god, goddess or human – can require.” He watched her while she mulled this over. “You have done what you swore to do, and you have done it well. No one could ask more of you, Ninianee.”

“Does that mean you think he’s gone for good?” She wanted to shake him, but instead turned a steady stare on him. “Do you think this search has been useless? or a waste of time, because I’m beginning to think so. The farther we travel, the more remote he becomes.”

Doms lifted the bolt holding the door closed and let in the first, icy breath of morning. “I hope you can find your father, and I’ll help you to the limits of my strength. If I were missing, I would hope you would search as diligently for me as you do for Duz Nimuar.”

Ninianee didn’t know how to respond so she nodded. Preoccupied with her jumbled supposings, she began to think aloud. “If I have misunderstood the Oracle, then the fault of it is upon me, and I am the one who must take the consequences of it. I should have asked more specific questions, and in a more cogent way, so the Oracle could provide its laconic answers that were also clearly comprehensible. The Oracle is said to speak truly, and I will accept that; I didn’t think I was misled, but I may have been.” She swallowed hard.

“I’m not saying you are,” said Doms. “But I am saying that such misreading is easily done. Think of the tale of Parmentoj and the xanji – even the god misunderstood what the xanji told him. If a god can misapprehend an Oracle, what must we mortals do?” He lifted her into his arms so that she wouldn’t have to walk barefoot on the ice-coated paving stones. “You, of all people, should be able to see the straight path through the tangle of clever words. But prophesy is more than subtle phrases and mixed meaning, and not even the most powerful magicians can remain wholly free from confusion. You are doing what seems right, and I can’t argue with that.” He continued to walk toward the inn, then asked, “Do you want to turn back? If you do, I’ll travel with you.”

“No – I don’t think so, not yet. And I’ll decide if we go north or east at the crossroad. The Kingdom of Waniat or Eltsigaranth – we shall see before the day after tomorrow is half over,” she said, glancing anxiously toward the side-door of the inn. “Will they notice us?”

“Or south, and then west, if you decide to return home, or seek out the magicians of Fah,” he reminded her. “You have those options as well.”

She closed her eyes briefly. “You’re right. I’m beginning to think I need to find another way to search for Duz Nimuar other than hunting him this way. But no magician has been able to pick up any trace of him, so what else am I to do? If he’s to be found, an effort has to be made. At the same time, I’m very uneasy about Vildecaz. I hadn’t thought to be gone so long, and I don’t know that Erianthee has returned yet. She should be back before the end of the Thirteenth Month. Hoftstan and Poyneilum Zhanf are honorable caretakers but – “

” – it isn’t the same thing. You want to see for yourself that all is as it should be, and to set to rights anything that has gone wrong. I do understand.” He went through the door and set Ninianee down.

“Yet you’ve been gone from the Drowned World for years at a time,” she said.

“I’ve stayed away from the Drowned World for a long time to keep from annoying my father, but still I worry for the safety of the place, as I was brought up to do. Don’t misunderstand me – I like my unfettered life, but I don’t expect it to last. Much as it galls me, I know I am Yaolaj much more than I am a troubadour.” He nudged her in the direction of the stairs.

“Why don’t you go back?” she asked.

He shook his head slowly. “From time to time I make the attempt, but inevitably there is a clash. When I’m allowed to return without limitations upon me, I’ll begin to do the things I believe it is my duty to do, but for now, for the sake of the land, I’ll stay away.”

“Why are you and your father at odds?” she pursued, her curiosity running
ahead of her good manners.

“It’s a long, dull story, I’m afraid. My father is a man of orthodox habits. He follows tradition, and I, as you know, do not. I have tried to maintain the old ways, but not to the exclusion of the new, which my father sees as a failing in my character and dangerous for the Drowned World. So my father, Yao Delionaj, thinks me desperate and disrespectful, and I think he’s mired in outmoded ways. He and I cannot meet without exchanging harsh words. I don’t know that we’ll ever come to any real mutual understanding. We’re both too wedded to our positions. I remain his loving son, but his rebellious subject, and the latter is more important to me than the former.” He went ahead of her to open the door to their suite. “I do love him, but I can’t say that I like him very much – nor he me.”

“I’m sorry to hear this. I didn’t realize your disagreement was so entrenched.” Ninianee walked more normally now, covering the distance between them without effort or hesitation “Thank you,” she said, following him into the main room. “Having hooves can make my hands sore.”

“”I wondered about that,” said Doms, closing the door and setting the lock. “As you were Changing last night, you kept fussing with your . . . front feet.”

“I’ll do the same tonight,” she warned him.

“I wouldn’t doubt it.” He reached out and helped her to sit in the best chair. “It’s time you put some clothes on.”

“At least I got out of the ones I was wearing before they were completely torn apart,” she said.

“Our timing’s improving,” he said lightly, turning away from her.

“What is it?”

“Nothing to worry you, Ninianee,” he said, and deliberately turned back to her. “It is a trial of my patience, seeing you naked.”

Her answer was quick and abrupt. “It doesn’t have to be.”

“But it does. I’m not willing to trade half an hour now for all the years to come. You still seek to reward me, not to love me. When you do decide to love me, I’ll be overjoyed to spend hours and hours and days and years in dalliance with you.” He reached out and pinched her sajah closed. “So back into your brikes and pelgar and we can start our breakfast.” He kissed her once on the corner of her mouth.

“If that’s what you want,” she said, and prepared to get dressed without revealing her regret.

* * *

Erianthee had donned her newest serinel, a beautiful creation of tawny tongue-satin with square sleeves edged in violet. The ornamentation on the bodice and sleeves was sewn in opal-thread from Ymiljesai and accented with topazes and garnets. The guin under it was Uduganish linen the color of new wine. She looked dazzling as she emerged into the rubble-free Reception Hall, offering a deep respect to the members of the Court assembled there. She took advantage of the effect she created to address herself directly to Riast, who sat with his mother and his wife on their new thrones that had been installed only two days before.

“I have spent the last ten days in preparation for this evening,” she said, doing her best to meet the eyes of everyone watching her. “I have studied many learned texts on the summoning of prophesy and the embodiment of remetrij for prophesy, and I have done my utmost to follow the techniques set down in those pages and apply it to my own talent, a thing I’ve never done before. Whatever comes of it, know that I have done my utmost to fulfill your wishes.”

“Let me express my gratitude to you, Duzeon, for agreeing to make this effort on my behalf and the behalf of the Empire. In such perilous times, your efforts may well save many of the people of our Empire from suffering and death. The Empress and the Dowager Empress join with me in extending our gratitude to you,” Riast responded as he rose to his feet, his new dezhup and bydoga shining with jewels and gold thread, their glory at odds with his harried expression. He caught his lower lip between his teeth as if thinking better of this great a tribute before the Shadowshow even began, but then visibly strengthened himself and continued, “I, and all the Court, realize that you are undertaking a new application of your talent, and none of us knows how it may turn out. Let no one think less of the Duzeon if the evening is not as fulfilling as we might want it to be. We’re venturing into untried regions, and we all must keep an open mind. Duzeon Erianthee, as you have requested, no magician is in this audience, and a protective spell is around the Reception Hall to guard against magical intrusion, as well as Imperial Guards at each door inside the Hall, and our spell-hounds are posted at every door. You will work without help or hindrance, according to your wishes.” He respected her and sat down.

The fifty or so courtiers who had been permitted to attend this attempt were
silent, anticipating whatever might be in store for them. No one dared whisper, for Riast had declared that any interruption would be regarded as sedition and treated as such, a prospect the Court dreaded. The lights in the room grew dimmer as everyone stared at the dais.

Erianthee made her way through the heavy silence onto the reconstructed platform, and took her seat behind the short screen. “I’ll begin with the story of how Kylomotarch, the Forgetter and Garinekoree bargained for Eivenlijee. If prophesy is to come, it will be during the story.” She heard the faint gasp her topic evoked in some of her audience, and she thought, just as well. The dark and scandalous story of that ancient city still raised eyebrows throughout the Great World. “Garinekoree first, then Kylomotarch, the Forgetter.” Carefully she conjured the Spirits of the Outer Air into the likeness of the goddess, whose devotees were those whose work took them into the darker corridors of politics, espionage, and military action. Often described as elegant and cold, Garinekoree was the more readily embodied - a tall woman with dark hair and large, dark-gold eyes, arrayed in rich clothes and many jewels, carrying a whip and a barlo-cloak. The Spirit of the Outer Air manifested Garinekoree at half the size of Erianthee – a bit larger than she had expected, which she found at once puzzling and encouraging. The goddess flashed her eyes and the last mistiness coalesced into the appearance of living flesh. On to the god, she told herself. Kylomotarch was always shrouded in shadows, his face obscured by the hood of his gaihups, and forming him took more effort than Erianthee usually needed to manifest a Spirit of the Outer Air, although the usually large figure that resulted was more life-like than was often the case with Kylomotarch. She attributed these unexpected results to nerves and got on with her Shadowshow.

“This is how the god and goddess fell out over the fate of Eivenlijee: it was said that Eivenlijee had long held Garinekoree to be its principle goddess, and that she favored it – in her way – above all others in the Great World, for no city was as treacherous as Eivenlijee. There were shrines to Garinekoree throughout the city, and many of its leaders praised her for aiding and abetting their schemes and machinations. She was heralded at every sunset and praised at every dawn. Children called upon her when they performed mischief and their parents invoked her favor for any nefarious deed.” The god and goddess pointed to a place where a city was becoming visible, one with high, crenelated walls and heavily fortified gates. “Kylomotarch, the Forgetter, declared that it was time that Eivenlijee be ended and pass from the memory of the Great World, which offended Garinekoree, and she challenged Kylomotarch to justify his decision. He said time needed no justification, that it was his work to declare when a place or a person or a god would pass out of living memory. and that Eivenlijee, as all things must, had come to the end of its being. Garinekoree swore she wouldn’t allow this to happen, and invited the Forgetter to participate in a contest – if the people of Eivenlijee could do things sufficiently vile that they could never be forgotten, it would remain untouched by the incursion of time. Kylomotarch, the Forgetter warned her against such a reckless wager. No challenge she issued was sufficient to cause him to change his mind. But when she spat upon him in derision, he relented and agreed to the contest. He warned her that she would lose, for no one can stay the hand of Kylomotarch, the Forgetter – all things in time succumb to his will – to which she laughed and pledged to show him even he could be wrong. He told her he would take her wager, and the thing was done. At once Garinekoree’s shadow fell darkly over the city and the city sank into debauchery and decadence, then into degeneracy. Crimes flourished, as did all manner of chicanery, and no one was safe in the streets. After a time, the contagion spread and became more virulent. Gangs of thieves stole animals and people as well as treasure. The guards who fought them were suborned with bribes and threats. Conditions deteriorated further still. Wives slaughtered husbands and children, husbands made slaves and worse of their families. The city guards became bands of robbers and kidnappers. Their superiors sought out occasions to loose havoc upon the people, and profit by the carnage they wreaked. Oaths were made and were bloodily broken. The Night Priests of Ayon-Tur established a school within the city walls, and soon every sort of betrayal, outlawry, degradation, and abuse were practiced with impunity.”