Agnith's Promise: The Vildecaz Talents, Book 3 (28 page)

“Why so morose?”  Doms asked as he sat beside her in the smaller Reception Room while the spell-hounds padded through the upper floors of the Castle.  He was unusually grand in a hupslan of bronze Adamine-velvet with a heavy gold chain around his neck. 

“I’m just tired,” said Ninianee, taking off her Duzine coronet. She was in a gaunel of pale-grey-green Fahnine silk worked in a pattern of vines, an elegant, simple garment studded with tourmalines and moonstones.  “And I wish Erianthee were here.”

“After a night like this one, that’s hardly surprising,” said Doms and then lowered his voice.  “Do you have any more impressions about those wooden jars Magsto Zhanf found?”

“I?  No, I don’t.  But I haven’t had much time to think about them.”  She stretched slowly.  “I suppose I’ll have to put my mind to it during the next couple of days.”  She wound one tight, red ringlet around her first finger.  “I find it strange that they could remain hidden so long.  The spell-hounds should have found them, shouldn’t they?”

“Not necessarily,” said Doms with a care that suggested he had thought much about this.  “They may have been cloaked by deception-spells.  Or if the spells in the jars were set by someone known to the spell-hounds, someone whose magic they know . . . ” He left this all unfinished.

“You can’t think my father would do such a thing,” she protested vehemently.  “It isn’t in his nature.”

“No, not your father.”  He coughed diplomatically.  “You know better than I do that there’s more than one magician in this household.”

“And I know that they have their talents and their limitations, as do all of us.”  She wished he would tell her what was on his mind, but she didn’t plan to force him into  revealing more than he was ready to.

“Magsto Zhanf and I had a long talk yesterday.  There was much that we needed to discuss.  He explained a great deal more about the spell-mummies, and the wooden jars.  I think you should let him tell you what he’s decided about them, and then you can determine what’s best to do.”

“My, aren’t you being cryptic,” she marveled, then held up her hand.  “Can we discuss this in the morning, when my feet don’t hurt and I’m not jittery with fatigue?”

“Certainly,” he said without any discomfiture.  “I’ll be glad for a good night’s sleep, myself.”

She regarded him steadily, unable to set aside the questions Doms had awakened in her.  “You think Zhanf is on to something?  Would you think that it’s important?”

“I think it’s possible,” he answered carefully.  “Something has been allowed to flourish here, and you can tell that it has functioned more reliably than most magic.”

“Do you think . . . my father had anything to do with it?”  Ninianee asked.

“I don’t know.  He may not have been able to identify it on its own.” Doms tried not to yawn and almost succeeded.

“But he always strove to protect us,” said Ninianee.

“Certainly,” said Doms.  “But you know he was damaged by Yulko Bihn’s dishonorable attack, and these other factors may not have been as obvious to him as they would have been had he not been blighted.”  He said it kindly, and added, “You know your father has persevered against deep malice, a malice that appears to feed on itself.  It’s hardly surprising that he hasn’t been able to identify the source of – ”

Ninianee got to her feet.  “I know my father was . . . damaged by Bihn’s attack  –  everyone knows that  –  and that in spite of everything, he hasn’t been able to eradicate the power of that attack.  It hasn’t faded, as you so rightly observed.  Over time, I would expect  –  ”  She folded her arms.  “You know what I mean, don’t you?”

“You mean that the force loosed against him more than twenty years ago still works against him.”  Doms regarded her, his light-blue eyes keen.

Senijer ae-Miratdien came to the door, holding Foluch and Senkei on their leashes.  “All clear above-stairs, Duzeon,” he reported with a respect.  “With twenty-three guests in the Castle, it took longer than usual to clear.”

“Thank you, ae-Miratdien.  You’ve had quite a busy night.” 

“Tomorrow won’t be much easier,” said the Captain of the Night Guard.

“Probably not.”  She inclined her head instead of getting up to return his respect.  As soon as she was gone, she returned to what they had been talking about.  “Yes, my father’s weakness hasn’t lessened in spite of all he’s done  –  that means the force has been renewed,” said Ninianee.  “Yulko Bihn comes to Vildecaz once a year, and as done so for as long as I can remember.  I’ve tried to find out what he’s doing while he visits.  I’ve set Merinex to watch him, but so far, nothing.”  She yawned.  “Hoftstan Ruch was wary of Bihn.  I wonder if he found out something that made him dangerous to Bihn?”

“To Bihn?  Hadn’t he left before Ruch was killed?”  Doms asked.

“He had, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t have hired men, or other allies to do his will.  He didn’t bury the spell-mummies himself, that much is certain,” said Ninianee, stretching. 

“Because of the men I saw?”  he inquired.

“Not entirely, no.  The spell-mummies are heavy and awkward.  It would take more than one man to put them in place, unless the magician doing it is a Magstogorin, and not even my father was that powerful before his – “ She stopped, and went on in another tone,  “Doms, I’m sorry.  I’m half-asleep, and I’m not holding two thoughts together.   I want to be fully awake when we confer on these things.”  She stood up.  “I’m afraid I won’t remember half of what we’ve said, come morning.”

Doms came to her side.  “Then let’s go up to bed.  We’ll deal with this come morning.”

She fell in beside him, her coronet still dangling from her fingers.  “The one thing that bothers me, though.”

“What is it?” He put his arm around her as they went up the stairs.

“What if it isn’t Yulko Bihn doing it?  What if it’s someone else?  Then what?”  She expected no answer and receive none as they went down the long, dark hall to her
room.

* * *

“You know we’ll have to have another celebration now you’re home, for everyone in the region,” Ninianee said to Erianthee as they sat in the warm dark of the bath-house on this, the third night of First Month.  Ever since Erianthee had arrived at the Castle in the hour before sunset, they had been surrounded by the excited, relieved, and merry staff of the Castle, but finally they had time to themselves, and were making the most of it, though midnight had passed two hours before, and both of them were hungry for sleep.  “We can talk to General Rocazin in the morning, after breakfast is over.”

“How long can we put it off?”  Erianthee asked.  “I’ve had enough rites and celebrations to satisfy me for a month.” 

“Not too long  – a week at most  – you know what the staff can be like, and they’re still fretting about Papa.  Why not simply get it over with?”  She sank down in the deep wooden tub so only her head showed above the water.

“I’d like a little time to . . . settle back in.”  Erianthee shook her head.  “I would like to have a day simply to walk the grounds, to have time to be part of the Castle.”

“Without fuss, you mean,” said Ninianee knowingly.

“And without functions needing my talent,” said Erianthee.

“Was the Court truly in as much disarray as you told us during our evening meal?”  She recalled the fierce storms that tore at the Boarthine Plateau at about the same time as the conjure-storm struck farther south, and supposed the northern blizzards must have been driven by the conjure-storm that ransacked the Porzalk Empire.

“I can’t tell you.  I’ve never seen anything like it, not even the hard storms that come in from the ocean some winters.  This was like an invisible army set upon destruction.  The wreckage left was on a scale I’ve only heard about in legends.”  She leaned back and sighed.  “I don’t blame Riast for being so determined to find out why he had been made the target for those spells.”  She signed, sinking lower in the water.  “I didn’t like being held there the way I was, as comfortable as the Emperor made me, but I did understand what his reasons for it were.”

“Court life must have been difficult,” said Ninianee.

“Enough that I hope I don’t have to return to Tiumboj for at least two or three years.  Riast may invite me, but I’m going to have to decline.  There must be some good reason I can offer when it happens, one that won’t offend him.”  She shook herself as if to be sure she was no longer in the Porzalk Empire.  “I’m afraid I’m not in the mood for entertainments, not after what transpired.”

“I know what you mean, at least about the expectations of others,” said Ninianee.  “I’ll see if I can convince General Rocazin to issue invitations for a week from now.  Some of those who’ve just left won’t be in a hurry to return, so our company should be light.  We won’t have to house two dozen guests and their servants for three days  – I’d think we’ll have fifteen guests at most.  If we put the reception off longer than that, there’ll be rumors flying that won’t do us any good.  Besides, so soon after you’ve come back, you’ll have an acceptable excuse not to perform one of your Shadowshows at the celebration.  From what Kloveon said, I gather you aren’t ready to do a Shadowshow yet, in any case.”

“That’s one of the reasons I’d like a delay, yes,” she said, letting he hair fan out around her in the water, her face turned up while she let the warm, scented heat soak into her.  “Nin, I need to talk to you about . . . about an idea I had.”

Ninianee wiped the dampness from her face with a soft cloth and rose a short way out of the water.  “What is it?”  She knew that tone and suspected that she should give her sister her full attention.

“It’s about Papa  – about finding him,” said Erianthee, moving up one seat level in the water so her shoulders were out in the air now.  “I think there may be a way to locate him.”

“You’re not planning to summon up another god or goddess, are you?  From what Kloveon described you’d be wise not to try anything like that again, or not for a good while.”

“Perhaps not,” said Erianthee, her oblique answer alarming Ninianee.  “But the animals that bore him away might be able to show you where he is, and I may be able to . . . bind what you see enough to manifest it, so that we’ll know . . . “ She let the words trail off.  “I can’t do it without you.”

“I don’t know if you can do it with me.  I’ve never used my talent that way, and I might not be able to find a way to do so, not in the manner you’d like,” said Ninianee.  “If he still has Vildecazin animals with him, I might be able to reach them, but if not, then you’ll exhaust yourself to no purpose.”  She pulled herself half-out of the bath and looked up at the dark beams of the ceiling.  “It may be that there is something we can do together.  Let me think on it through the night.”

“Does Doms give you time to think?”  Erianthee prompted with a giggle.

“We don’t do anything but sleep, not yet,” Ninianee mumbled.

“Nothing but sleep?  He’s your Official Suitor, you said.”

“And you haven’t yet made Kloveon yours,” said Ninianee.  “Doms and I have been traveling alone together for long enough that having him as my Official Suitor makes sense, and avoids awkwardness.”

“For everyone but the two of you,” said Erianthee.  “At least you know he really is a Yaolaj by now.”

“I hope so,” said Ninianee. 

“You don’t mean you still doubt him?”  Erianthee was shocked at Ninianee’s continuing reservation.

“No, I mean he’s at odds with his father, and his situation is precarious,” said Ninianee.  “I spoke to Magsto Zhanf about it, two days ago.”  She didn’t add that it had been Doms who had told her about the alienation, back during their travels.

“If he knew, why didn’t he tell you before you left?”  she asked, and went on before Ninianee could frame an answer, “By the way, that was a very reckless thing you did, going off on your own like that.”

“I felt I had to go, Eri.”  She reached for her bathing-cloth again.  “Zhanf said he had pledged to say nothing unless I asked, and he was bound to abide by his word.  He told me that he would have explained about Doms and his father if the matter had been his to decide.”

“That’s admirable of him, I guess,” said Erianthee.  “If he’s true to his word.”

“I imagine he has to be, given his position.  A Magsto Atoreon can’t be lax in such observances, or he wouldn’t keep his position,” said Ninianee.  “And Papa trusted him.”

“Papa,” said Erianthee with a sigh.  “He trusted Zervethus Gaxamirin, too, and the Imperial Scholar only sent Pareo.”

Ninianee nodded.  “And even he’s gone.”  She folded her arms.  “What kind of rite did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know.  I thought we could look in the library.  Papa must have something useful in all those tomes.”  She stopped.  “Don’t mind me, Nin.  I’m still
feeling . . . pulled out of myself and it makes me short-tempered.”

“But you manifested a god to save your escort  – small wonder you may be a bit frayed still,” Ninianee approved.  “You may be as sharp-tongued as you like after such a great feat.  Just don’t forget what it cost you.  That faint into which you fell sounded dire.”

“Without Kloveon, I’m sure it would have been much worse,” said Erianthee, getting out of the water and reaching for her jalai.

Ninianee stood up and dawdled into her larnija.  “Do you think we should tell anyone?  – about what we’re going to attempt?”