Heart of the Exiled (18 page)

Turisan stood and addressed the Council in formal tones. “The latest word from Midrange is that there are now more than three thousand kobalen massed beyond the pass. I ask for the honor of organizing an advance force and leading it to occupy High Holding.”

He looked at his father as he spoke, expecting resistance. The rest of the Council fell silent.

“You cannot command High Holding.” Jharan’s voice was quiet. “You are needed here.”

“I will return once the garrison is established.”

Turisan met his father’s gaze, and what he saw was rather more complex than flat denial. He did not understand all the tones in Jharan’s expression, but he thought pride—pride in him, his son—was among them.

Jharan turned to Ehranan. “How many guardians would you recommend?”

“To occupy High Holding? A company of a hundred at the least. Better four or five.”

Lord Berephan, who at Turisan’s urging had come to the Council session to support his request, pressed his lips together. “We do not have that many ready to march.”

Jharan turned to him. “Can three companies be spared?”

Southfæld’s commander nodded. “If a third or a half may be recruits.”

“Half.”

Jharan looked back at Turisan, eyes challenging.
Turisan was too astonished that his father now seemed willing to let him leave Glenhallow to resent the terms.

“Agreed.”

Jharan’s mouth curved slightly upward. An attendant stepped toward him, murmuring words Turisan did not hear, for his growing excitement distracted him. He was going to Midrange!

An advance force that was half raw recruits. He would have to continue their training on the journey north and make certain he left them in the hands of a competent commander at High Holding.

Jharan looked up at the Council. “Gentles, evening has fallen, and refreshment awaits. Let us pause for now.”

The chime was sounded, and the councillors rose, eagerly seeking the promised repast. Turisan hastened around the table to Berephan.

“A word with you, Lord Berephan?”

Berephan smiled and nodded toward the colonnade. Turisan followed him out of the chamber and into the evening’s chill.

A bright sky shone above the mountains, glowing blue with twilight, pierced by one gleaming star. The warden lounged against a tree-carved pillar on the balustrade, regarding Turisan with a bemused expression.

“Was I too bold?”

“No, but you have set yourself a hard task.”

“My father has not made it easier.”

“No. He sensed your purpose.”

Turisan looked at him sharply. The Guard commander smiled.

“Why do you think he asked Ehranan how many guards to put into the garrison? Jharan
built
High
Holding; he was the first to occupy it. He needed no advice, but he honored Ehranan by asking it. He honors you by making demands of you. Jharan knows you wish to prove yourself.”

“Will you advise me?”

“Of course. Come to my house in the morning—break your fast with me, if you wish—then we will assemble the Guard on the plain and you may select your three hundred.”

“Thank you, I will. I—”

Approaching footsteps stayed Turisan from continuing. He turned to see Rephanin coming toward them along the colonnade, cloaked in dark gold, his black hair spilling across his shoulders. The magelord slowed as he neared them and nodded in greeting.

Berephan returned the nod. “Lord Rephanin. I scarce expected to see you today.”

A flicker of emotion crossed the magelord’s face, gone before Turisan could identify it. “I fear I must have missed most of the session.”

The warden laughed and nodded toward Turisan. “You missed our young lord’s bid for glory! He is off for High Holding and will suffer no more of the Council’s tedium.”

Rephanin raised an eyebrow. “So the occupation of High Holding has been authorized? Good news.”

Turisan gave a soft laugh. “If I can pull three raw companies together.”

“Half raw, not fully raw.” Berephan chuckled. “You will manage. All you must do is command their attention, and I doubt our valiant mindspeaker will have trouble doing that.”

Turisan’s eyes met Rephanin’s, an idea striking him. He held the magelord’s gaze, sensing the powerful khi behind the gray eyes, and spoke quietly.

“If I had your skill, I could easily claim the attention of my guardians.”

Rephanin’s eyes narrowed. He held silent, watchful. Turisan continued quietly, though he could not wholly suppress his excitement.

“It would draw them together, give them a common ground, a bond that could otherwise take days to form. Rephanin, would you be willing to come to the training ground tomorrow morning and speak to my recruits?”

Rephanin frowned. Turisan saw Berephan shift restlessly, but he kept his attention on the magelord, hastening to elaborate upon his idea.

“A short message—a welcome, perhaps a statement of our task.”

Rephanin raised his chin. “I have recently had to explain to some fifty magehall candidates that mindspeech is not an idle pursuit.” His voice was temperate, but Turisan sensed his frustration.

“My purpose is not idle. This will help me focus them and help them understand the nature of mindspeech. Is that not an aim of yours?”

Rephanin paused, and when he did answer, his voice was low. “It is.”

Berephan stepped away from the balustrade. “Well, if I want anything to eat, I had best go in. I will see you anon, my lords.”

He strode into the palace without waiting for an answer. Turisan glanced after him, wondering at his abrupt departure, then turned back to Rephanin.

“Please consider this.”

A curious smile touched the magelord’s lips. He seemed to relax, and something like excitement shone out suddenly in his face.

“I need no time for consideration. If I can be of help
to you, I am happy to serve, but I think it would be best if you spoke to them yourself.”

Turisan laughed softly. “Would that I could.”

“You can. Through me.”

Astonished, Turisan stared at him. Rephanin’s smile widened.

“I have not tried this with—with very large groups, but as long as your message is for everyone present, it should not be difficult.”

Turisan blinked, amazed. “I did not know it was possible! I can speak to others through you?”

“As long as we are all together.”

Turisan inhaled deeply. “Thank you!”

He held out an arm. Rephanin hesitated to clasp it. His dark brows drew together, and he shook his head, one hand rising briefly as if to ward away the gesture.

“We should go in.”

He turned and went into the palace with much the same haste Berephan had shown. Turisan watched him go, puzzled that Rephanin would so generously agree to his request—even better it as he had done—and then would not take his arm. Something more than what had been said lay between them.

Rephanin excused himself from the rest of the Council session, pleading the need for his presence in the magehall. He was far more comfortable there despite the potential complications of using mindspeech with his circle.

Heléri did not join the circle that evening. Rephanin hid his disappointment and spent the night concentrating on his work, completing the focus in a fourth cloak just as the dawn was breaking.

Setting the cloak in the stack of finished work, he left
the chamber, nerving himself to don his own cloak and face another day. He was ready to rest, but he had pledged to speak to Turisan’s recruits this morning.

He entered his private chambers, permitting himself a small sigh of weariness as he closed the door. Looking toward the hearth, where Tivhari would have left him a meal, he was startled to see Heléri sitting there, quietly awaiting him. A wistful smile crossed her lips as he sat down beside her.

“Felisan is preparing to return to Highstone.”

Rephanin froze, heart going numb. “When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

He closed his eyes. He had known this was coming, but knowing did not ease the pain.

“I shall miss you.”

“And I you.”

Silence enveloped them, filled with memories, some ancient, many new. Rephanin felt the return of emptiness looming before him. He shook his head.

“You were never mine.”

“Never and always.”

He met her gaze, and her soft smile seemed both warm and sad at once. He was tempted to reach for her in thought to learn her meaning, but he hesitated. It would make parting all the more grievous.

A moment passed, then she reached a hand out and laid it over the back of his. The warmth of her khi sent shivers through him. When she spoke, it was almost in a whisper.

“You always seemed to know how fascinating you were, so I never told you I found you so as well. From the very first.”

Her words rang in his soul, carrying him back to Hollirued, where she had not paid him the homage he
had expected and he had hence dismissed her. He closed his eyes.

“I was the greatest fool walking.”

“You knew your path.”

He laughed softly and turned his hand to clasp hers, yielding to her touch, knowing he would also yield to her wishes. She alone could command him, and she did so by demanding nothing.

My heart
.

Oh, thank you, love. I worry so when you will not speak to me
.

I am trying to learn discipline. So far I have fared rather poorly
.

Discipline?

He hesitated, guarding his feelings from her, not wishing to explain in full. He chose what to tell her carefully—truth, but not all the truth.

I wasted much time in Hollirued and caused pain where it was not deserved. I have done the same here—spent centuries treating mindspeech as a game. I must never use it so idly again. We face war, and our gifts must go to serve our people
.

A flicker of remembrance passed through him, gone before he could grasp it. Something to do with the war—it had almost felt as if Davharin were the source of the thought.

So you are doing
. Heléri’s expression was earnest.
You have enhanced your circle’s understanding tenfold—

And endangered one heart among them, at least
. He smiled ruefully.
Fascination, you called it. It is the mindspeech that fascinates, not me, but I become the focus for it. I must not be tempted to take advantage of that
.

Valani is not so weak as to be hurt
.

No? Yet I dare not risk hurting her and losing her service to the circle. She is a gifted mage
.

Heléri took his other hand, holding both tightly.
You are too strict toward yourself
.

He could only laugh. “No.” He raised her hands to his lips, one after the other.

I want to ask when I will see you again. I know there is no answer
.

Come to Alpinon
.

He felt his heart lift at the words, though he doubted he would soon be at liberty to leave Glenhallow. He sensed that she knew this as well, yet he answered.

I will
.

He looked up at her, smiling, then remembered Turisan and the Guard. “I have an obligation this morning.”

Heléri dropped her gaze to their hands. He squeezed her fingers to reassure her.

It will not take long. Please stay
.

Her smile as she looked up caught at his heart. He stood and lifted her from her chair into his arms, kissing her passionately, then at last drawing back. As he did so, a powerful warmth—unmistakably Davharin’s—flooded his awareness.

Remember
.

Still clasping Heléri’s arms, Rephanin swayed slightly, disoriented by the spirit’s sudden presence.
Yes, Davharin?

Remember your path. The search will be worthwhile
.

As suddenly as he had arrived, Davharin withdrew. Rephanin saw Heléri watching him with concern in her eyes.

Do you know what he meant?

Rephanin was about to shake his head, when suddenly
he did know—the guardians. Three hundred guardians he had never met, might never meet again. He was pledged to speak to them already. What difference would a small assayance make? He might find a mindspeaker among them. His heart beat a bit faster.