The Red Wyvern: Book One of the Dragon Mage (24 page)

“So Lady Elyssa told me. It’s odd, but he reminds me so much of Brour. Not that Brour was ever rude, I mean, and he was a young man to Otho’s old. But there’s somewhat about their faces that made me wonder if they were kin.”

“Distantly, they are. You have sharp eyes.”

“I’ve needed them.”

“No doubt. Otho made the casket that—”

“So Elyssa told me. Does he know about, well, about that
thing
inside?”

“He does.” Nevyn glanced around. “Let’s not discuss that matter, Lilli, until we can be sure no one will overhear.”

“Of course, my lord. My apologies.”

“I wanted to talk about you, anyway. I wasn’t making some idle threat when I said that misusing dweomer could bring you harm. It’s a question of the balance of the humors, you see. Using dweomer draws upon the fifth element, the aethyr, and its humors. Working magic drains, as it were, the aethyr from your body, and if you’re not properly trained to restore it, you can become quite ill.”

“Aethyr? So that’s what that word means! May I ask you about somewhat? A while back Brour and I worked a ritual, and we invoked this spirit. He called Brour a child of earth, but he said I was a child of aethyr. What does that mean?”

“Brour did what? Have you been trained to work invocations?”

“That was the first one, but we practiced it a lot.”

Nevyn growled under his breath.

“Well, I’m so very glad he at least let you practice,” Nevyn said. “We obviously have a great many things to discuss. Lilli, for your sake, I need to know everything you were taught and what Brour and your mother made you do.”

Lilli hesitated, wondering how much she should trust him, and he allowed her silence as they walked along. They reached a clearing among the trees. In the center of the open ground stood a basin of cloudy white stone, touched with gold by the dim lantern light. Water welled up inside it and overflowed in a graceful veil all round. Nevyn paused and dipped his hand into the water, then drew it out with a scatter of drops.

“There are four elements,” Nevyn said, “fire, air, water, and earth. The aethyr is the fifth, their root and their unity, some say. Humans, people like you and me, partake of the nature of aethyr. People like Brour and Otho partake of the nature of earth. Far off to the west of Deverry there are others who partake of the nature of air, but I know not about water and fire.”

“People like them? They’re different, somehow?”

“Somehow. I don’t pretend to understand all of these things.” Nevyn suddenly smiled. “Yet.”

Lilli laughed and looked into the heart of the fountain. As it rose up, the water seemed to form a crystal sphere that never changed form even as the individual drops passed through it. The crystal sphere glittered, then swelled, trapping her gaze. All at once she felt herself swooping through air and diving down toward the water.

“Stop it!” Nevyn grabbed her arm. “Come back, Lilli! Stay here.”

Lilli staggered in sudden weakness. Nevyn hooked her arm through his and let her lean against him.

“So that’s how you slip into trance, is it?” he said. “That easily?”

“Is it easily? I wouldn’t know.”

“You have an alarming ease when it comes to falling into a trance. I’ll give you my solemn word on that.”

“Very well. I do have much to learn, truly.”

“Just so, but I’ll wager you’re very tired now.”

“I am. Looking into the black ink used to wear me out.”

“No doubt. Let’s go back to the broch. You need to rest. But do you understand now why we absolutely have to discuss these things?”

“I begin to.”

“Good. We’ll talk more on the morrow.”

High up in the broch, Lilli had been given a tiny sliver of a chamber, but the narrow bed was comfortable enough, and the view from her little window opened out wide. By standing on the wooden chest at the foot of the bed, she could see over the walls of the dun down to the town, which sloped gently away to a vast stretch of water, silver under the stars at the edge of the view. For a moment she wondered what river it might be; then she realized that she was seeing the ocean that stretched all the way to the edge of the world. She stood for a long time and gawked, imagining the distances, until exhaustion reminded her to sleep.

Once she woke in the morning, she returned to her perch. In the sunlight the ocean looked even larger and as wrinkled as a crone’s neck. Those must be waves, she thought. I’ve heard about those. She was still staring at the ocean when a servant came to fetch her to the women’s hall.

“There’s ever so much work to do, my lady,” the girl said. “The prince has chosen a new device, and he wants new banners made, to take with the army, like, and they’re leaving ever so soon.”

“It’s a pity he didn’t choose it months ago, then.”

“The princess told him that, she did, right in front of everybody, too. He just laughed.”

In the women’s hall a big table stood in the sunlight from the windows, and all the little ones had been shoved back against the wall. On the big table lay fine red cloth, stretched out tight with weights to hold it down. Lilli had never seen such a beautiful red on cloth, a fine scarlet like roses. While the princess supervised, a stout woman with pale grey hair was marking out some kind of pattern with a chunk of chalk.

“Make the mouth bigger, Tidda,” Bellyra was saying. “It should look fierce.”

“Just so, Your Highness.”

“And the tail should be lashing about, too.”

“Just so, Your Highness.”

Elyssa came up beside Lilli and greeted her with a smile.

“There’s bread and fruit over there,” Elyssa murmured. “If you want porridge, by all means go to the great hall.”

“My thanks, but bread will be fine for me. These are the devices for the prince’s new banners, I take it?”

“They are. He’s chosen a red wyvern.”

Lilli felt a dagger of cold run down her spine and back up it again.

“What’s so wrong?” Elyssa said, still quietly.

“Naught. I think it’s a splendid omen for him, that’s all. He’ll conquer in this sign.”

Elyssa was staring at her in concern, and one of the servant girls turned to look as well.

“I’d best get somewhat to eat,” Lilli said brightly. “If you’ll excuse me?”

Elyssa let the matter drop, much to Lilli’s relief. Yet all morning, as the women sewed the cut-out wyvern to a heavy linen backing, Lilli could feel Elyssa watching her, just every now and then.

“A red wyvern, is it?” Branoic said. “Now there’s a grand idea!”

“Why?” Maddyn said. “Have you been talking with Nevyn about it?”

“I’ve not.” Branoic cursed himself for blurting once again. “Uh, er, it’s just such a fierce beast, you know? And a poke in the eye for the false king, taking his wyvern.”

“That’s true enough.”

Late in the afternoon the two silver daggers were sitting in the great hall. Down at the other end of their table a group of the lads were dicing for coppers to pass the time until dinner. With nothing particular to occupy him, Branoic had let his mind wander, and as it usually did in this situation, it had played a trick on him. Sometimes he saw things, mostly small creatures who skittered at the edge of his vision or appeared suddenly in a fire. Sometimes he heard things, mostly voices warning him of a future event. More often than not, when he heard one of these omens, it came true, and he knew in his heart that in the sign of the red wyvern, Prince Maryn would conquer—not that he’d be telling Maddo about his unwilling divinations. The bard’s good favor meant too much to him for that.

“Quiet in the great hall today,” Branoic said instead. “Where’s Owaen and the captain?”

“I don’t know about Caradoc, but Owaen’s still in the barracks,” Maddyn said. “The chirurgeons ordered him to stay in bed again today.”

“It’s always pleasant to have Owaen elsewhere.”

“Oh ye gods! Aren’t you two ever going to lay that feud aside? How many years has it been since—”

“I don’t care! The little bastard shamed me and took my blazon, and he’s ragged on me ever since besides. One of these days he’ll go too far, and I’ll wipe the cobbles clean with his ugly face.”

Maddyn made a growling sort of noise. Branoic sipped his ale and paid strict attention to the dice game. Soon they’d ride out, he reminded himself, and be free of the stinking boredom of a safe dun in winter.

“Speaking of Nevyn,” Maddyn said suddenly, “there he is. I thought he was in council with the prince.”

Branoic looked up to see Nevyn walking down the staircase with Lady Lillorigga of the Ram. At the sight of her he felt himself grinning. She was such a pretty lass with that boyish cut to her hair, and yet oddly frail, as if she needed a good man to stand between her and her troubles, that she’d caught his attention immediately. When he realized that she and Nevyn would walk right by, he swung himself free of the bench and stood up.

“Good day, my lord,” Branoic said, bowing. “And a good day to you, my lady.”

Lilli smiled with a tremble of good humor on her soft, full lips, then looked down at the floor.

“And to you, lad,” Nevyn said, somewhat surprised. “Maddo, how’s Owaen?”

“Resting,” Maddyn said. “But the chirurgeon says the wound’s clean and on its way to healing.”

When Branoic risked a smile at the lady, she glanced up and seemed to be about to speak, but then Nevyn caught her arm and led her away. Branoic scowled after him.

“Well, well, well,” Maddyn said. “Look who’s nocking his arrow after some highborn game.”

“Oh hold your cursed tongue! There’s naught wrong in being courteous, is there?” Branoic sat back down. “The lady’s suffered a great deal lately. She needs to see a friendly face now and again.”

“Indeed?”

“Indeed. Though I’ll admit that she’s a well-favored lass. I wouldn’t mind making her acquaintance, like.”

“And what would a noble-born woman want with the likes of you?”

“Well, she’s an exile, isn’t she? With no land or dowry to her name. After the fighting’s over, a man of the King’s Own might look pretty good to her.”

When Maddyn rolled his eyes skyward, Branoic threw a fake punch his way.

“Mock all you want,” Branoic said, grinning. “But I’ll make you a wager. Once the fighting’s over, and we’re all back here for the winter, I’ll bet I can gain the Lady Lillorigga’s favor. By midwinter, say.”

“You’re on!” Maddyn said. “One silver piece for you against my ten.”

“So! You think I’m that far behind in the field, do you? Well, I’ve always wanted to be rich. One to ten it is!”

By working until their fingertips were sore from the needles, and by recruiting every lass of every rank in the dun to help, Bellyra and her women managed to finish four big banners and six pennants in three days. Since the red cloth had come all the way from Bardek and cost as much as two war-horses, they used every scrap of it. Some of the piecework red wyverns were lumpy about the edges, and others had been shamelessly tacked down across their middles to keep them from bulging away from the backing, but as the princess herself remarked, they’d be filthy soon enough anyway, and no one would notice the stitching.

“We’ll have all summer to do a proper set,” Bellyra said. “But I’m not going to start them right away. We’ve all done enough sewing for now.”

The women cheered her.

During this nonstop needlework, Lilli had been able to talk with Nevyn mostly in the evenings, when the light turned bad. They would stroll in the garden among the roses until the night chill drove them inside, where of course they could say nothing openly about dweomer. Even so, she’d learned enough about the meaning of her gift for seeing omens to understand his concern at the way that gift had been used.

“I won’t say it would have killed you, though it might have,” Nevyn remarked during that last evening’s talk. “But you would have found it more and more difficult to clear your mind after each working and return to ordinary consciousness. Tell me, have you ever had a dream so vivid that when you woke, you weren’t sure if you were still dreaming or not?”

“I have, truly,” Lilli said, “though not very often.”

“Can you imagine what it would be like to live that way? You’d never be sure if you woke or were entranced, or even if you were asleep and dreaming. Your mind would drift from omens to dream to ordinary life and back again without any barriers between them.”

“That’s terrifying.” Lilli laid a cold hand on her throat.

“Good. I meant it as a warning.”

“Well, it worked. My lord Nevyn, I never wanted dweomer gifts, and now you’re telling me they’re dangerous! Isn’t there some way you can just make them go away? I never want to use them again, I truly don’t. I wish these wretched omens would just leave me alone!”

“It aches my heart, but I’m afraid there’s naught I can do. A lot of people are born with odd talents, but they never use them, and eventually the gifts shrivel up and fall away, like an apple left on the tree too long. But you’ve already started using your gift, and studying dweomer, too. You’ve set forces in motion, and there’s no turning back now.”

“But it wasn’t me! It was Brour and my mother.”

“So it was, and I’ll tell you, I’m furious about it. The dweomer must be chosen freely, just because there’s no turning back, and here they dragged you along the road without even telling you where you were going. That was a grave and ugly wrong they did you.”

Lilli risked a glance into the fountain. The water seemed ordinary water, but she looked away before a vision could trap her again. Around them the trees suddenly rustled; she started, then calmed herself. It was only a breeze, tinged with the sea, picking up as the evening turned cool.

“In a way I did choose,” Lilli said. “I asked Brour to show me things. I wanted to know what the omens I was seeing meant, and how it all worked.”

“Ah, but Brour caught your interest with his hints and suchlike, and your mother of course had been exploiting your gifts for some while.”

“Perhaps so. It just makes me feel so helpless.”

“No doubt. I’m sorry, child, but at least you’re free of them now. While I’m gone, please busy yourself with the daily life of the dun. I’ll wager you find yourself tempted, when days pass without news, to try to scry us out. Don’t! You need to let yourself build up strength.”