FORBIDDEN TALENTS (39 page)

Utta smiled.
“
I understand. And I’m sure you know that I’m not upset.
”

“
I do.
”
Ragni shook his head as he took Utta’s hand.
“
I’m amazed and grateful for your generosity to Saeun.
”
Though no one stood guard close by, Ragni kept his voice low.

“
Amazed? Did you expect me to condemn her for using magic to save us from the storm?
”

She meant it. She didn’t fault Saeun at all. He was surprised to find himself feeling defensive.

“
No. Well, that too, perhaps. A lot of people would. But I guess that I expected you to feel some jealousy, even if ours is an arranged union.
”

“
Did you really think me that petty?
”

Baldur’s Balls
. He wasn’t usually this inept with women.
“
No! Of course not!
”
Seeing Saeun again must have addled his mind.

Utta searched his face as though she wished she had the Talent for Empathy. He could see her only dimly in the firelight but he felt her emotions clearly enough. She hadn’t been upset when he began his apology, but she was starting to be.
I’m mucking this up
.

“
I hope not,
”
she said.
“
In Freya’s name! How selfish do you think me? I expect you to take an
elskerinne
. Dear Lady, I pray you do!
”

She was telling the truth. The unvarnished truth. It wasn’t her fault that it stung.

“
I will do my duty by you, and give you as many sons as you require, but you’re a good man, Ragni. You should have someone who lies in your arms out of pleasure and desire.
”

“
Well I hope
you
will find
some
pleasure in our bed!
”

Utta laughed.
“
Don’t look so injured. I’m sure your Talent and your vast experience will allow me to enjoy the making of our babies, even if you are a man.
”

“
What?
”

Fear shafted through her as a look of horror swept over her face.
“
I thought you
…
You said
…
”

Understanding flashed through him. Gods, he was slow tonight. Had been slow for days.
She prefers women
. She hadn’t been looking at
him
the other day when she’d felt that flare of desire. She’d been looking at Tiva’ti.

Ragni ran his hand over his face. Could his assumption have been any more arrogant? No, he wouldn’t castigate himself for that. It was only natural that he think, that he
expect
his betrothed would desire him.

He’d heard of such women, of course. They usually did their duty by their husbands, just as Utta had promised, and took their pleasure elsewhere.
At least I needn’t worry that Utta will bring home another man’s get in her belly
.

Ragni took a deep breath and blew out a cloud of mist, trying to settle his emotions enough to read her. She was the daughter of a Jarl, after all, and still his betrothed. What he said now could affect alliances—and their comfort with each other—for the next twenty years or more. He didn’t want to bungle this.

Her jaw was clenched, her emotions a roil of anxiety and stubborn pride. She seemed grimly determined to bear whatever pain and punishment he meted out.

“
Um, I’m sorry I misunderstood before.
”

Ragni felt her surprise, then she looked at him cautiously.

“
Do you want this marriage?
”
Ragni asked.
“
We could break the betrothal.
”
It would be a mess, but they could do it. Better that than a lifetime of anger and bitterness.

“
And damage the friendship between Dalrik and Quartzholm?
”

He felt her surge of suspicion.

“
Do
you
want out?
”
she asked.

“
No.
”
He truly didn’t. Utta was kind and brave and honorable. She would make a fine wife, even if she didn’t desire him.

“
Good.
”
The wave of her relief broke over him.
“
A woman of my rank must make an alliance.
”

“
Not all women marry.
”
How many old spinsters are like Utta
?

“
I want children, Ragni.
”

Children. She wants me for something, anyway
. Ragni looked into the fire smiling ruefully. At least her fear had diminished.

“
I count myself fortunate that you were chosen for me.
”
Utta reached for his hands.
“
You’re young, and well-favored, and your Empathy gives me hope that you won’t use me harshly because of
…
how I feel.
”

Ragni looked at her, shocked.
“
I would never—
”

“
It’s not unheard of.
”

A horrible thought occurred to him.
“
Have you been with a man? Is that why you
…
? Did he hurt you?
”

“
Yes, I’ve been with a man, and no, he didn’t hurt me. It was good enough.
”

Ragni relaxed. She hadn’t been abused.
Still
…
He must not have been much of a lover
.
“
I hope I can do better than ‘good enough.’
”

She smiled, and he felt her amusement.

Why is that so funny
?

A cry of distress cut the snow-muffled night. Ragni jerked around. Celia thrashed, and groaned again as if her heart were being wrenched from her chest.

Ragni jumped to her side, Utta right behind him. Whatever she’d dreamed must be bad. Very bad.
“
Celia!
”

“
What is it?
”
Tiva’ti, who shared Celia’s blankets, sat up.

Fender appeared at Ragni’s side, helping Celia to sit, wrapping another blanket around her.
“
What is it my lady?
”

Celia’s voice was choked.
“
Murder! Dahleven
…
the Dark Elves
…
”
She took a deep shuddering breath.
“
Quartzholm is under siege!
”

“
MY LORD!
”
An armsman rapped on Dahleven’s door. His wake-up call.

Dahl awoke, hands clenched in the sheets.

Celia had nearly been killed in that cave. Out there. Far away. Where he couldn’t protect her.

He made himself relax his hands. She was alive. She’d looked tired, even in her idealized dream-self, but she was alive.

He’d only allowed himself an hour’s sleep, just long enough to find out if Celia was all right, and to let her know about the siege. He’d slept in his clothes so there was nothing to do but don his boots and sword.

The armsman hurried to keep up with him as he made his way toward the battlements.
“
The villagers are all billeted, as you ordered, my lord.
”

“
Good.
”
They’d moved as many of the villagers within Quartzholm as they could, as soon as they’d realized their danger. It hadn’t been soon enough. Dahleven swallowed bile at the memory. Only half the townsfolk had made it inside the walls.

The Elves had come as twilight fell. Heavy snow limited visibility to less than half an arrow’s flight. Looking at first like low clouds rolling down from the mountains, an unnatural mist was nearly upon the village before they knew their danger. Only as the first screams were heard from the edges of the town did anyone within Quartzholm realize what was happening.

Dahleven ordered the gates opened and sent four squads of men to evacuate the townspeople into the castle. Then he watched from the parapet in impotent fury as the strange mist churned and swirled its way closer to the walls. Shouts of battle and cries of pain rose from below, strangely muffled. His hand had itched for his sword’s grip. He wanted to lead a company out, to engage the enemy that threatened his home, his people. It was not an indulgence he could afford.

If Father were whole
…

But he wasn’t. With Neven struck down, Dahleven had to command all of Quartzholm, not just a few men.

Only two squads had returned, ushering the villagers and their animals within the walls as fast as they could be made to move, the mist lapping at their heels.

Voice tight, Dahleven ordered the gates closed and barred.

The village men were helping to man the ramparts and sleeping in the sheltered inner courtyards. The women and children were bunked in the various banquet halls or doubled up in the servants’ quarters. It was a tight fit, but his men had kept good order in the chaos.

So far.

“
Uncle Dahleven!
”
His nephew Ljot recalled him to the present. He’d assigned the boys too young to fight to run messages and errands.

“
Yes?
”
He looked over his shoulder but didn’t slow his stride down the hall.

The boy half trotted to keep up.
“
The Master of Arms sent me to report that he has five thousand arrows ready, and he’s set the fletchers to making more.
”

“
Good. Report to the commander of the north wall.
”
The Tewakwe warriors were stationed there. It would be good for the boy to get to know them.

Ljot made a face.
“
I’d rather stay with you.
”

Dahleven stopped abruptly and turned a sharp look on the boy.
“
You will obey my orders as any armsman does—or would you rather return to your mother?
”

Ljot stiffened at the question, as any boy of twelve winters would.
“
No, my lord.
”

“
Then go.
”

Dahleven turned his attention back to their situation. The gates and walls were locked and guarded, as were the bolt-holes—for all the good that might do. He wished he had some reliable knowledge of what the Elves were capable of. With their magic and glamour, he feared the Dark Elves could break any lock and walk right past a guard without a challenge. But not to try was unacceptable.

He’d done everything he could. He even, reluctantly, had written a sigil on the door of his room as Baruq had taught him, to summon the aid of one of the
pinnsvin’s
fellow spies. If anyone knew what the Dark Elves could do it would be one of them. The sigil was small and near the floor, and no one had asked him what it was doing there. But none of Baruq’s Fey friends had contacted him, either.

The hallways were busy with a strange kind of hushed scurrying. Footmen had been pressed into guard work, ladies maids now oversaw the care and feeding of refugees. The pulse of the castle was quickened, tense, and unfamiliar.

“
Dahleven.
”
Magnus fell into stride with him.

“
Magnus.
”

“
Let me send someone through one of your bolt-holes for reinforcements.
”

Dahleven cocked an eyebrow at his father’s old friend. At
his
friend. He wasn’t surprised at Magnus’s lack of preamble. There wasn’t time for an elaborate and subtle dance of diplomatic subterfuge where Magnus pretended not know about Quartzholm’s hidden exits and he pretended not to know what Magnus was referring to.

Dahleven shook his head.
“
The tunnels are probably already held against us.
”

“
We should try anyway. I have a Night Eyes and a Cat Foot Talent among my guard. If anyone can make it through, they can. Only an attack from the Elves’ rear has any hope of breaking this siege.
”

Dahleven paused and ran a hand over his beard.
We shouldn’t wait until our supplies run low
.
“
Do it. I’ll send a Pathfinder along to show your men the best route.
”