Sentinelspire (24 page)

“Or what?” said Lewan, and he was proud that his voice didn’t tremble, for his heart was beating double-time under Talieth’s imperious gaze. He expected her to say,
Or you’ll find out what we do in that charnel room up the hall
, or
Sauk will let that tiger hunt you in the grounds
, or
I’ll have you dragged to the top of the tallest tower and thrown off
, or any number of threats.

But she said none of those things. Instead she looked at him and said, “Or I’ll see that you’re given the best traveling clothes we have, as many supplies as you can carry, weapons of your choosing, and I’ll have you taken out the gates and down the mountain. You can go wherever you like. And in a few days’ time, or a tenday, or perhaps even a month if the gods smile upon us, when Sentinelspire explodes and shatters
the land for a hundred miles, when a cloud of dust and ash and fire covers half the known world, choking babes in their sleep, killing wild beasts and livestock, and strangling sunlight from this season’s crops—and very likely next season’s as well—if you’re far enough away to escape that … well, then, I guess you can live the rest of your life knowing that you could have helped prevent it. Once the fires have died, the earth cooled, and the ash blown away, you can even come to the great hole in the ground where once we lived, and you can dance on the place where we died. Where Ulaan died. Is that what you want, Lewan?”

L
ewan sat on the edge of the bed to put on the soft doeskin boots. As he did so, he enjoyed the sight of Ulaan, standing before the open balcony doors in the morning breeze, the light curtains fluttering about her. She had her arms over her head as she put the last of the … 
things
in her hair. Lewan couldn’t remember what she’d called them—pointed rods of flexible wood encased in black lacquer. She’d done her hair up in some sort of topknot of intricate braids, all bound in gold ribbon.

“Gaasur,”
she said.

“What?”

“The pins for my hair. They are called
gaasur.”

“How … did you …?”

She smiled a very happy smile and said, “I saw you watching me, and you had that look you get when you are thinking your deep thoughts.”

“Deep thoughts?” Lewan chuckled.

Finished with her hair, she lowered her arms, considered a moment, then said, “I like it when you watch me, Lewan. I …”

He waited for her to finish. When she didn’t, he said, “What?”

“I am glad I was told to serve you.”

Serve me?
Lewan scowled, the moment ruined, for it reminded him exactly what Ulaan was.

“Ulaan, how long have you lived here? In the Fortress?”

“Ten years,” she said. Her smile melted. “Since I was sold to the Lady Talieth in Almorel.”

Ten years. Twice as long as Lewan had been with Berun.

“Your parents …?”

“My mother was a servant of a wealthy merchant who trades along the Golden Way. My father might have been the merchant. Or he might have been any number of guests whom my mother … served.”

Lewan could see the wariness in her eyes, but he had to know. “How many … others—other men—have you … served?”

He saw her instant of shock, then she turned her back to him. When she spoke, anger as well as hurt were in her voice. “I am a servant here,
Master
. I do as I am told. If that displeases you, you may send for another.”

“Stop saying that!”

“What, Master?”

“Stop calling me master!” said Lewan, anger rising in his voice. “And stop telling me that I can have another …”

“Another what? Another whore?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You were thinking it.”

Lewan growled and looked away, staring at the wall but not seeing it.

“Lewan?” The anger had gone from her voice. The hurt was still there, but there was something else as well—hope?

He looked to her again and saw that she had turned halfway round. Her back was straight, her head held high, her jaw out, the very picture of a woman in control of her emotions. But she balled her hands into tight fists, and he could see them trembling.

“What?” he said.

“You … you are not like … the others.” She stopped, closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath. “When you look at me, when you touch me, when we …” She opened her eyes and looked right at him. He could see the sparkle of unshed tears. “Do you love me, Lewan?”

Lewan blinked. “I—”

A knock at the door—three sharp raps—then it opened and into the room stepped Talieth, dressed in a long, loose skirt and a sleeveless bodice that seemed to have been crafted from thousands of tiny links of red copper and laid over sheer red silk. A circlet made of the same material crowned her head, and dozens of rings and jewels bound her hair in a score of braids. Thick gold bracelets ringed her arms at each wrist and elbow. From head to toe she seemed the perfect image of a warrior queen.

Ulaan turned toward the Lady Talieth and dropped to a bow from which she did not rise.

Talieth spared both Ulaan and Lewan a quick glance, then looked at Lewan with a raised eyebrow and an upward curl of the corner of her mouth. “So nice to see you both dressed this time.”

Lewan stood and faced her. “So nice of you to knock this time.”

Talieth speared Lewan with her gaze. “Get into your robe and get the hood up,” she said. “Time for today’s studies.”

Beneath the Dome of Fire in the private study, Talieth shut the door behind her and looked at Lewan.

“It’s been five days, and you have unlocked none of the relic’s secrets. Its power still sleeps. Explain yourself.”

Lewan glanced over his shoulder to where
Erael’len
lay atop a linen cloth on the table, then focused his gaze on Talieth’s
chin. He couldn’t quite bring himself to meet her gaze. “I am trying, my lady.”

“You felt the tremor last night? Or was your attention elsewhere?”

“I felt it.”

The metal lattice of her bodice and circlet made a soft tinkling sound as she approached Lewan. She stopped an arm’s length away. He could smell a scent of cinnamon and some other spice wafting from her. “Sentinelspire is stirring, Lewan. And the Old Man is doing his best to wake her. Time is precious.”

Lewan swallowed and took a deep breath. “I know, lady. I am trying.
Erael’len
sleeps as well, and so far, I can do nothing to wake it. However …”

“I have no time to for your dissimulations, Lewan. Speak.”

Lewan’s brow wrinkled. He had no idea what dissimulations meant.

“Erael’len
is sacred to the Oak Father, a relic of the forest and the life in root, branch, and leaf. Yet I have sat here for days in the bowels of the earth, surrounded by ancient stone, cut off from the life of the wood.”

Talieth turned and paced the length of the room while she thought. “You’re saying that you need … greenery in hopes of tapping the relic’s power? I’m afraid that’s not possible, Lewan. Here, in my domain, my wards can protect you. Out in the gardens a hundred prying eyes could see you—and the Old Man has ways of seeing things without spies. The grounds around the Tower of the Sun are the wildest area of the fortress, but taking you there … that is well within his domain. I might as well blow trumpets and present you and the relic to the Old Man as a gift.”

“That isn’t what I meant, Lady. I don’t need to be outside this room. I need to be outside the fortress altogether. In the wild.”

Talieth still had her back to him, but she looked over her shoulder, a sly look in her eye. “Is this some plot to escape, Lewan?”

“Lady, you told me that you would shower me with gifts and show me on my way. I am here because I choose to be. Or am I now a prisoner? Have you reconsidered your offer?”

She turned to face him then, and gave him the last thing he’d ever expected from her: a gracious bow. “Forgive me, Lewan. You are right. Other than my own people here, most of my dealings are with nobles and the wealthy who desire my services. Every gesture and tone with them holds hidden meanings. Perhaps I have been a plotter for so long that I now cannot help but see plots where there are none. I meant no insult. You are, of course, still our honored guest. And yes, my offer stands.”

Lewan was so stunned by her apology that for several moments he could do nothing but stare.

“Do close your mouth, Lewan,” said Talieth, a smile taking the sting out of her words. “Standing there with it hanging open makes you look stupid.”

Lewan snapped his jaw shut and forced his attention back to the matter at hand. “I must ask you something, my lady.”

“What is it?”

“You said that here, in your private study, I am free from … prying eyes,” said Lewan. “Why do you bring me here every day? Why not keep me in my room? I could just as easily study
Erael’len
there.”

“Two reasons,” said Talieth. “First, with Ulaan in the tower, your room offers too many … distractions. Secondly, the tower is not warded against those ‘other ways of seeing without spies’ that I spoke of.”

“Then why keep me there?”

“Because if the Old Man should have reason to spy on you there,” she said, “and I can’t imagine why he would, he would simply see my latest acquisition to our blades. The Old Man
is many things, Lewan, but he is the
Old
Man, and he has precious little interest in watching how you and Ulaan spend your nights. He has not called for a woman of his own since my mother died.”

Lewan blushed. “Th-that is part of what I want to speak to you about, lady.”

“Ulaan? What of her?”

“Lady, I believe
Erael’len
will continue to sleep while locked away in this stone fortress. Master Berun had a word for it he learned from his master.
Shuret
. It means … ‘in civilization,’ cut off from the wild, from growing things. Allow me to go outside, into the wild—even if only on the nearby mountainside. I believe
Erael’len
might give up its secrets more freely in the wild. And … and I—”

“Yes? What?”

“What I … have done with Ulaan.”

“I’ve told you that is no concern. She is yours to do with as—”

“No!” said Lewan, more heat in his voice than he’d intended. Talieth’s eyes narrowed dangerously and he softened his tone. “I mean that what I have done … I fear that I have become … impure in the eyes of the Oak Father. Perhaps this is why
Erael’len
does not speak to me. If I could return to the wild, if I could undergo a rite of purification—”

An exasperated sigh escaped Talieth. “You Oak Children and your obsession with purity. Does your god really deny you the pleasures of the flesh? Of women? I thought Silvanus was the god of wild and growing things. You do know where baby wolves and deer come from, don’t you, Lewan?”

“To control one’s desires is not to deny them,” said Lewan, then he added a belated, “Lady. My body is … 
was
sworn to the Oak Father and his daughters.”

“If the girl is polluting your body and soul, I will have her removed,” said Talieth. “Given that we need his favor, I would not want to offend your god.”

Lewan thought he detected more than a little insincerity—or was it disdain?—in her tone, but she looked entirely serious.

“No!” said Lewan. “But … but Ulaan concerns this also.”

“Indeed?” said Talieth. “How so?”

“If I help you, if I can figure out how to use
Erael’len
to stop your father, I want you to honor your offer. Give me enough supplies to survive and see me on my way.”

“We have covered this ground already, Lewan.”

“But I want something else.”

“Ah,” said Talieth, a knowing look on her face. “Do tell.”

“Ulaan comes with me. If … if she wishes it.”

Talieth cradled one arm in another and tapped her lips with one finger. “You are a puzzle, Lewan. First you plead help in purifying yourself, and with the next breath you ask for the little corrupting influence as a gift.”

“Don’t call her that.”

“I
didn’t, Lewan. You did. Dress her in leaves and put flowers in her hair all you like. Ulaan is still no dryad.”