Light of Eidon (Legends of the Guardian-King, Book 1) (7 page)

“B-brother Eldrin? You have a v-visitor.” The boy bowed awkwardly,
struggling to catch his breath. With trembling hand he gave over the card,
and Eldrin felt a pang of empathy. That trembling was not born of nerves
alone. Well did he recall his own early months in the novitiate: every movement monitored and scheduled, every moment spent in the company of others, every day filled with more tasks than could be done until fatigue became
a constant companion. He had withstood it without undue distress, but many
of his novice mates had not. Tics, tremors, ungovernable fidgeting, wandering
concentration-they plagued many of the boys. Some had broken under the
strain and left.

He smiled at the lad. “How long since you took your vows?”

“Two months, Brother.”

“Well, you’ve survived the worst.” Eldrin glanced at the card and did a
double take. Carissa? What was his sister doing… ? Oh, the Festival of Arms.
Her husband, chief of the border lords, must have come down for the contest,
bringing her with him. And she, seizing the opportunity, had come to see
Eldrin. For the first time in eight years.

Trepidation tempered his rising delight. As fraternal twins he and his sister had been inseparable throughout childhood, and she’d been devastated by
his decision to enter the Mataio. They had argued hotly during the weeks
before he left. Afterward her letters had been brief and cool. That, of course, could be due to their having been censored, but as far as he knew, she’d never
forgiven him.

The boy was eyeing him nervously. “Shall I t-tell her you are unavailable,
Brother?”

“Of course not. Where is she?”

“B-by the pool in the g-guest’s garden. I c-could lead you there if you
w-wish.”

“Please.”

The garden lay across the main court, west of the Keep itself. Graveled
paths wound between hedges of redhart and hockspur and beds of smaller
herbs laden with fragrant purple-and-white flowers. Downslung branches of
tall, stately weepers provided shady bowers for meditation or counsel, their
yellow, fleshy blossoms abuzz with bees and hummingbirds.

The boy led him to a small court with a stone-lined pool and looked
around. “I had t-trouble finding you, Brother. She was t-to have been escorted
here, but … p-perhaps she did not stay.”

Eldrin doubted that. He swung round searching, then heard a familiar
voice ring briskly over the hedges. “I’ve been waiting over half an hour,
Brother? I will be put off no longer.”

With a nod of thanks to the acolyte, Eldrin headed for the voice. Rounding a spherical bush, he spied a tall, amber-gowned figure near the rear portico, half hidden by the weeper that stood at the path’s bending between
them. She’d cornered a young Initiate Brother.

“But you must know everyone here, sir?” she exclaimed. “How hard can
it be to find him?”

The Initiate, shorter than she, had retreated up against a pillar, hands
offered placatingly. “I’m sorry, my lady,” he said. “There are many newcomers
this week.” His gaze caught on Eldrin. “Here comes another. Perhaps he will
know where to find the one you seek.”

As it happens, I do,” Eldrin said, coming up beside them, straight-faced.

Carissa whirled to confront him. “Then, why is he not…” She trailed
off, blue eyes wide. He couldn’t keep from grinning then, while the Initiate
retreated hastily.

The last time Eldrin had seen her, his twin had been a chubby, freckled
adolescent. Now she was a beautiful young woman, slender and graceful in a
full-skirted gown of amber silk. Her thick blond hair was twisted into ropes at the crown and netted into a club at the nape of her neck. Soft tendrils
framed a smooth complexion with features gentler than his own, though she
shared his straight, narrow nose and deep-set blue eyes.

Those eyes traveled over him now, head to toe and back again. “Plagues,
Abramm?” she croaked. “Your hair’s nearly as long as mine?”

“I’m told it grows exceptionally fast.”

`And you’re so tall. And you look so much like-“

“Like Father. I know.”

She grimaced. “Well, except for the hair, of course.”

`And a few other attributes.”

They looked at each other and burst into laughter. She flung her arms
around his neck. “Oh, Abramm, it is so good to see you again?”

After a moment Eldrin pushed her gently away. He was sworn to chastity,
and even touching a woman, sister or not, was frowned upon. “It’s Eldrin
now,” he murmured.

They stood awkwardly for a moment. Then he said, “Have you come
down for the Festival, then?”

“Rennalf has, yes.” She stroked the folded paper fan looped to her wrist.
`And I’m going to Thilos in a couple of days. To visit Aunt Ana.”

Again they fell into silence.

“Of course,” she burst out, “I won’t go until after the contest. I’m hoping
desperately someone will beat Gillard.” She flicked him a nervous smile. “He
needs to be taken down a notch. Or three. Trap Meridon, the sword master’s
son-you remember old Larrick Meridon, don’t you?-anyway, Meridon-
he’s captain of the King’s Guard, by the way-he almost won last year. Some
said he threw the match for fear of the trouble Gillard could make for him,
his being a Terstan and all, but-” She broke off with a grimace. “I’m babbling, aren’t I? Sorry. I am just so nervous … seeing you. After the way we
parted, I mean.”

He regarded her wordlessly, still trying to catch up.

She stole a glance at him. “I said some hateful things.”

,,we both did.”

“Aye.” She turned the fan in her fingers.

Eldrin clasped his hands behind his back, wondering what to say next.

“It’s just …” She let her hands fall to her sides, drew a deep breath, and looked up. “When you left it was like having my arm ripped off. I hardly
knew what to do with myself”

“I never meant to hurt you, Riss.”

“I know. I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I mean, the way Gillard
tormented you, you had to get away.”

“That wasn’t why I took the vows.”

“You did it because you wanted to serve Eidon, yes.” But she was only
parroting his words from eight years past, still not understanding.

`Anyway,” she went on, “I just wanted you to know I’m not angry anymore.” She met his gaze and smiled. “But I have missed you.”

He felt he should say he’d missed her, too. But truly, there’d been no time
or energy to miss anything, and with his thoughts turned more and more to
Eidon, no room for the past.

When he held silence, she averted her eyes and stroked the gilded edge of
her fan. Then abruptly she snapped it open, stirring the air in front of her
face. “My goodness? I’d forgotten how stifling summer gets down here?”

“I know what you mean.” Relieved, he gestured up the graveled path.
“Shall we find a place to sit? It’ll be cooler in the shade.”

She fell in beside him as they walked. “The heat seems to get worse for
me every year,” she went on. And, of course, last year I didn’t even come
down on account of the baby so-“

“Baby??” He whirled to face her. “You have a child?” Of course, she must.
More than one, no doubt. She’d been married seven years, and it was her duty
above all else to produce an heir for her husband. It just hadn’t occurred to
him that his sister, his childhood companion and co-conspirator, could also
be the mother of a pack of toddlers.

She did not rise to his joy, did not look at him at all. The fan worked
convulsively. Her voice, when it came, was nearly inaudible. “He was born
too early, and we lost him. Just like his brother before him.”

Eldrin winced, wanting to kick himself, and mumbled an apology.

She shrugged. “Eidon makes all things right. Isn’t that how it goes?”

For those who love him, Eldrin thought, dismayed by the bitterness in her
voice. He said nothing, not wanting to rub salt in what was clearly an open
wound, and stopped beside a shady bower, lifting a blossom-laden branch for
her to step under.

`Anyway, that’s the real reason I’m going to Thilos,” she said, heading for the marble bench at the base of the weeper’s gray trunk. “They’re supposed
to be good at fixing that sort of thing.”

“I will petition Eidon on your behalf,” he said gravely, settling beside her.
She thanked him, but again he sensed her insincerity, and again they lapsed
into uncomfortable silence. A bee buzzed nearby; birds chittered in the
branches enfolding them. Then a group of stubble-headed acolytes swarmed
up the paths, flitting from plant to plant, clipping leaves and stems with tiny
scissors, and dropping their treasures into sackcloth bags. An elderly Guardian
accompanied them, stopping at various shrubs to lecture his charges on identification and usage, lectures Eldrin had heard numerous times and had even
given on occasion.

As the group moved on, Carissa seized on the man’s last topic. “Hockspur? Isn’t that the one that makes you susceptible to suggestion? The one
they’re always slipping people at parties?”

“Aye.” He chuckled, grateful for something to say. “Hardly anyone makes
it through their first year of the novitiate without falling prey to it.”

“They gave it to you?” She leaned toward him eagerly. “What did they
make you do?”

“Well, some people are more susceptible than others.”

She grinned. “Don’t tell me they had you barking like a dog.”

“Fortunately, I’m one of the few with a natural resistance. It only makes
me sick to my stomach.”

She shook her head wryly. “You never did like being out of control. Must
be that infamous Kalladorne will-of which you got a double portion.” She
paused. “I wonder how Gillard would react.”

“Carissa-“

“Oh, I’m not going to do anything. It’s just fun to contemplate the possibilities. He has gotten so full of himself these days.”

Eldrin offered a noncommittal murmur, preferring to avoid the topic of
their obnoxious younger brother.

Before he could come up with a new subject, she giggled and said,
“Remember the time you stuck that tail in the back of his belt just as he set
out to lead the Parade of Arms? The one with the black-and-white stripes?
Remember? It looked ridiculous. And he never knew. Kept wondering why
everyone was snickering in his wake. I’ve never laughed so hard in all my life.”

Eldrin smiled briefly. “He broke my nose for that one.”

She laid a hand against her cheek, her eyes widening with dismay. “I’d
forgotten about that.”

Eldrin shrugged. “Of all the things I left behind, I must admit Gillard is
the least mourned.” Even now it was all too easy to conjure up impure feelings of hatred and anger and resentment. Not least because his brother was
apparently unchanged and as unchecked as ever.

He watched a hummingbird whir at a yellow flower on a low-hanging
branch behind his sister’s shoulder. The bird, a dull gray-green in the shade,
suddenly turned and looked right at him, sending an inexplicable chill up his
spine.

Oblivious to it, Carissa snapped out her fan and stirred the air again, sending the bird darting away. “So, where were you yesterday?” she asked. “I went
to the Procession, got a place right near the dock, but you weren’t there.”

“They took me off earlier.”

`Ah, on account of the rioting,” she guessed. “Raynen said they might do
that.”

She eyed him thoughtfully, then shook her head. “Every time I look at
you, I get amazed all over again.” She touched the lock of blond hair that had
fallen forward over his shoulder. “You look…” She flushed. “You look like a
real-and-true Guardian.”

“I am a real-and-true Guardian. Or nearly so.”

“Yes.” She rested the open fan in her lap and looked at it, caressing an
edge. After a moment she drew breath to speak.

He cut her off. “Don’t, Riss. You know I won’t change my mind.”

“Things are different now.”

“Not for me.”

“Of course for you.”

He snorted. `All I’ve ever wanted was to know Eidon and serve him.
That’s not changed.”

“Maybe not, but it doesn’t matter. That’s the point.” She turned on the
bench to face him. “We’re Kalladornes, Abramm. That makes us pawns-of
the people, of politics, of power. What we want doesn’t figure into the mix.”

“I am not a Kalladorne anymore, Carissa. I am a servant of Eidon.”

“Not a Kalladorne?” She waved the fan dismissively. “Do you have any
idea what’s going on in this city right now?”

“If you mean the nonsense about Saeral putting me on the throne, yes. I
know.”

“It’s not nonsense.”

“It most certainly is.”

She pressed her lips together again, then turned away and resumed fanning.

“Carissa, how could I be king? I lack the temperament for it, I have no
military background, and I don’t know wools about politics. The Table of
Lords would laugh me out of the Chamber.”

“Not as many as you think. A majority approved your reinstatement to
the succession.”

He huffed. “In any case, Saeral would never stand for it. It’s not at all
what being a Guardian is about.”

She continued fanning, studying the tips of her amber slippers. “If you
were king, could you not enact laws that would further Eidon’s interests?”

“Eidon’s interests are only furthered by the work we do for his Flames.”

“With you on the throne, that work could include driving heretics and
practitioners of evil out of the realm, making sure people lived pure and virtuous lives. You could clean up the drunken excesses of the court and bring
the lecherous barons into line.” She looked up at him. “Would that not
strengthen the power of the Flames?”

He stared at her, again bereft of words.

She grimaced and shut the fan. “Oh, come, Abramm. Why can’t you see
it? Saeral has been using you from the day he met you?”

“Using me?”

“Leading you along, convincing you that you were weak and clumsy, that
he was the only one who cared or understood.”

Eldrin smothered a convulsion of anger and turned from her. “I don’t
want to hear this, Carissa.”