Magic Casement (20 page)

“Well,”
Kade said cheerfully. “There would seem to be no use worrying about the
Andor man. Inos does not know where he is, and if she doesn’t, then I
assume that no one does. We’ll just have to keep the parade going and
hope that she takes to someone else.”

“Or
until he chooses to return?”

“Exactly.”

“And
if he brings a proposal?”

“Oh,
Inos would accept with her next breath. He bewitched her. And I have my orders.
Unless I have very-very-good reasons, she is to be allowed to make her own
choice.” She sighed wistfully. “I can’t blame her. He
certainly did sparkle. Grim old Krasnegar would be a merrier place with him
around.”

But...

Ekka
nodded as the music began again for the gavotte. If Inosolan did not succeed,
who would? How soon was Holindam going to die? She had been thinking in terms
of years, and now it sounded like perhaps months. There was a title involved.
There was a kingdom. More than that, there was almost certainly a word, part of
the Inisso inheritance.

Ekka
decided to keep her own options open. She would summon Angilki and inform him
that he need not propose to the Yyloringy woman this evening after all.

Two
days before Winterfest, a fencing lesson ended when Andor’s wooden sword
thunked across Rap’s armored abdomen hard enough to split the leather,
spill the peat-moss padding, and force an agonized “Goof! “ out of
the victim.

“That
will do for today, I fancy.” Andor’s amusement was evident even in
a voice muffled by a fencing mask.

“Not
fair! “ Rap protested, straightening up with difficulty.

“You
said-”

Andor
pulled off his mask and laughed. “I said that the point was almost always
better than the edge, yes. But I did not say that one should never use the
edge, my friend. That’s why swords have edges! And you left yourself wide
open for that one. Let’s go and have a drink. “

Ruefully
Rap noticed that Andor’s hair was barely ruffled after almost two hours’
vigorous exercise.

They
put away the protective garments, the masks, and foils; they washed themselves
at the communal trough; they prepared to depart. There were no other fencers in
the garrison’s gym. Krasnegar was preparing for Winterfest.

“A
beer at the Beached Whale would soften the tissues pleasantly,” Andor
suggested, expertly snuffing candles. He was carrying a large and unexplained
bundle of furs, which Rap was trying not to worry about.

“I’ll
keep you company for a while.” Rap thought glumly of the lonely attic to
which he must return, the long hours until the evening meal, and the longer
hours after that until he could expect to sleep. Foronod’s affairs were
shut down now for Winterfest, so Rap would have nothing to do for days. Yet he
had no great longing to linger in the crowded, ill-lighted Beached Whale with
its thick fug of beery odor and oil fumes and reek of unwashed bodies. The
gaming would stop as soon as a seer entered; sometimes women would
ostentatiously depart. For Andor’s sake he would be tolerated-briefly-but
he was not the most popular of customers. He never stayed for long.

“On
second thought,” said Andor, who always seemed to know what a man was
thinking, “let’s go straight to your place. I have something
private to discuss. “

They
stepped out into one of the covered stairways of the palace and picked their
way carefully down toward the light of a distant torch sizzling in its sconce.

“How’m
I doing, Andor?” Rap asked. “In fencing?”

Andor
frowned in the darkness... Rap thought he frowned.

“Well,
you’re still growing like a sorcerer’s sunflowers, and that throws
a man’s coordination off. You’ll soon be over that, which will
help. Otherwise-you’re average. Thosolin would be happy enough to take
you on now. The Tenth Legion would not. “

After
a moment of echoing footsteps he added, “It’s a pity you only have
farsight and not some foresight as well; they often go together. Foresight
makes deadly swordsmen, unbeatable. Even so, you should have known that
carpet-beater was coming just now. It was not exactly a subtle stroke. “

Rap
snarled. “Damn farsight! I still won’t believe it! I don’t
see anything.”

“It’s
a name, that’s all. And a precious gift. Stop fighting it! “ They
went through a door and crossed a courtyard between high snowbanks, spectral in
the starlight. The sky was a black crystal bowl, clear and bitter and
infinitely deep. Soon the moon would come to dull the stars, but the sun was a
brief visitor to Krasnegar at Winterfest. The air was deadly as steel. It could
kill a man in minutes.

Then
came more ill-lighted stairs and corridors. Starlight glimmered but faintly on
the windows, yet Rap led the way without hesitation, his companion following
closely. The final stair was black as a closed grave, but Rap hurried up it to
his room. He went to the flint and candle on the shelf. He struck a spark and
light danced over the floor. “There!”

“Most
people keep their candles by the door,” Andor said dryly.

Rap
swore under his breath. He went out again and hurried along to the drivers’
office to borrow a couple of chairs. There was no light at all, but he put his
hands on them without hesitation. He told himself that he was doing nothing out
of the ordinary-he had put the chairs back there after Andor left the last
time, and no one came near that office for six months at a stretch, so he had
known exactly where they would be. But as he carried them to his room, he knew
that Andor’s comment was valid-he did wander around in the dark. He had
nothing to trip over in his little attic, only his bed and one small box, but
he could always put his hand on anything he wanted. The thought troubled him.
He was slipping, starting to make use of an ability that he refused to recognize
or accept.

By
the time he arrived with the seats, Andor had extracted the wine bottle from
his mysterious bundle and was standing under the candle on its high shelf,
fiddling with the seal. The bundle lay on the bed, a cushion shape of obviously
fine-quality white fur, bound with a ribbon. Rap looked away from it quickly
and told himself that it was not what he feared it was.

It
was, though.

Andor
glanced around for goblets, shrugged, and held out the bottle. “You
first! Merry Winterfest!” He grinned. “Merry Winterfest,” Rap
echoed obediently. He did not care much for wine on principle, but he took the
bottle and swallowed a mouthful. He did not like the taste much, even. He tried
to return the bottle, but it was refused.

“You
are not your father. You have a word! People who know words of power do not
have nasty accidents like he did. “ Andor did not usually discuss such
personal matters, and Rap was surprised that he knew the story. He took a long
swig and collapsed into coughing and gagging.

“A
man of taste and discernment, I see?” Andor sat down and sipped small
mouthfuls for a while in silence. Neither man had removed his parka. The wine
would freeze if they took very long to drink it, but that was not unusual in
Krasnegar. Only the rich could afford peat. Rap’s garret did not even
possess a stove, although it did gain some warmth from the horses that lived
below. Andor was probably comfortable, for his parka and fur pants were thick
and down-lined. Rap’s were neither, and had he been alone he would have crawled
into bed.

For
the thousandth time he wondered why? He looked at the coarse plank walls, the
low, canted ceiling, the equally rough floor. Every nailhead in that ceiling
was highlighted by a small cap of ice. The tiny window was a shine of starlight
through frost, a square eye of cold silver. Why would a man who could afford
such clothes, a man who could enter almost any chamber in the city-with or
without a beautiful hostess waiting-why would such a man spend hours in a place
like this? Rap had not forgotten the king’s warning, yet Andor seemed
like a true friend, improbable though that was. He had never suggested any
wrongdoing, he did not pry. And he was the only friend Rap had. For a man who
had once fancied himself as popular, that was a galling reflection. Andor
offered the bottle again. “Drink up! I want you good and drunk. “

“Why?”
,

Andor’s
teeth flashed in his irresistible grin. “You’ll find out! I need
your help on something. “

“You
can have my help sober, for anything. “ Rap took another swig.

He
meant that. Andor was lavish with his time. By day he would often accompany Rap
on his errands for Foronod, expertly checking the addition on a tally, carrying
burdens like a common porter, throwing in a rapier question or two when a
memory stumbled. Many evenings he had spent in this bare box, patiently
explaining the mysteries of the alphabet and the arcane ways of numbers. He had
pretended to enjoy being introduced to Rap’s other friends, the horses.

Why?

Andor
had been everywhere. As Rap knew Krasnegar, Andor knew the Imperial capital of
Hub, the city of five hills. He had described its avenues and palaces, its
fountains and gardens, in words enchanting to a son of the barren north. Silver
gates and golden domes, lords and fine ladies, crystal coaches, orchestras and
zoological collections-he had paraded them all through this dingy attic under
the protection of glittering Imperial cohorts with bands playing and bright
banners waving.

And
not only Hub. Andor had visited great cities uncounted. He had traveled the far
south and seen devastation wrought by dragons. For so young a man, he had
visited an incredible list of places. He had been to Faerie itself, bathing on
its golden beaches, paying a silver penny for a ride on a hippogryff. He had
met gnomes and dwarves and elves. He had haggled for tapestries in crowded
bazaars and edged along walls in sinister alleyways; he had watched beautiful
slave girls dance before their masters in opulent courts. He had sailed the
Summer Sea in barques with silken sails curved by the scented winds. He had
wept at the baleful song of merfolk lamenting a dying moon.

He
had also sat long hours in this rough wooden attic and talked of cannibal
islands and castles of glass, of unicorns, of elven trees that touched the clouds
and of the jeweled cities nestling on their boughs, of enormous animals with
noses long enough to wrap around a man and pick him up, of floating sea
monsters so huge that men built houses on their backs and cultivated gardens
there, of volcanoes in eruption and hot springs in which the locals boiled
whole oxen for feastings and the guests afterward for entertainment. He had
described the lairs of trolls and ancient ruins half digested by desert sands.
Talking statues and mirror pools that showed the future were familiar to him,
and he knew many tales of wonders greater yet.

Why?

Only
once had Rap even dared to ask why? Why was Andor his friend? Why did Andor
help him, keep him company, tell him of the wonders of the world, and even
assist in his education? What, he had inquired diffidently, was in it for
Andor? Andor had laughed. “For friendship! The others are only
acquaintances. And because I admire courage more than anything in the world. “

“Courage?
Me?”

“Remember
the first time we met?” Andor had asked in apparent seriousness. “I
had just arrived with the caravan, and a blizzard had just arrived, also. I was
looking forward to a comfortable bath and a hot bed. I discovered that the tide
had closed the causeway and there was a crisis on. I didn’t understand,
but I made it my business to find out, because I’m nosy. It wasn’t
difficult to locate Foronod and see that he was the boss. And then he sent for
a boy! I said to myself, `This man is crazy!’ But he asked you if you
could guide the wagons and you didn’t say ‘Sure!’-which a
fool might have done. You didn’t whimper excuses. You looked over the
problem and set that big jaw of yours and said, `I’ll try!’ And
then I said to myself, `He means he’ll try his damndest. And this Foronod
hasn’t sent for a boy; he’s sent for a man!’ “

“Oh!”
Then Rap had hoped he was not blushing, for he had felt immensely pleased that
Andor of all men should think that of him. “And then I picked you! “

“You
did. And I nearly panicked, right there. But you weren’t just risking
your own neck. Any fool can do that. You were going to carry the whole town.
That takes a backbone stiffer than most men’s. So I decided if you had
that kind of courage to lead, I would have the courage to follow you. So I did.”

And
although Rap could hardly dare to believe that explanation, he had never asked
again. If he made Andor think more about the matter, then Andor might come to
the correct conclusion. He might just say “You’re right; there is
nothing in it for me,” and leave.

But
Rap was thinking over the problem now, for Andor was being uncharacteristically
silent, passing the bottle back and forth in silence, staring moodily at the
floor. Usually he was irresistibly good company, leaving no time for Rap to
brood. This day he seemed to have a problem. Was he thinking of all the
festivities going on, the dozens of parties at which he would be welcome, so
long as he did not arrive with Rap in tow?

Then
Andor looked up and grinned. “Drunk enough yet?”

“For
what? “

“I
want a promise. I’m going to tell you a secret and I want your promise
not to tell anyone. Ever. “

“You
have it. Drunk or sober. “

“Don’t
be so rash! Suppose I told you I was planning to kill the king?” Andor’s
eyes twinkled, reflecting the candle-flame.

“You
wouldn’t.”

“All
right, here goes. I’ve never told anyone this, though. “ He held
the bottle up to examine its contents. “You and I have something in
common. We both have a word. “

Rap’s
heart crawled out of a chrysalis and gently opened butterfly wings. “You
have farsight, also?”