The Shaman's Curse (Dual Magics Book 1) (21 page)

Arcas grinned. “I hoped you’d think so. I’ve already made an
offer.”

Vatar laughed. “And what does Elaria think of it?”

Arcas shrugged. “She hasn’t seen it yet. But I described it to
her last night. She likes the idea, too. Neither of us wants to start out with
our mothers popping in all the time.”

Vatar’s imagination expanded to include Zavar and Savara
romping with a few younger cousins provided by Arcas and Elaria. “You might feel
different when your first child arrives.”

Arcas shifted uncomfortably. “Well, that’s not going to
happen right away. And anyway, there’s plenty of room for my mother or hers to
come out and stay for a little while.”

“True,” Vatar said.

~

Marriages in Caere were different than pairing off as year
mates among the Dardani. For one thing, there seemed to be a lot more
preparation involved. Vatar watched it all with a certain bemusement and only a
little regret—not that he and Avaza hadn’t found a way to live together. More
that he’d allowed himself to be captivated by her external charms rather than
find someone . . . stronger, more adaptable, more interested and interesting on
other, deeper levels. Spending only a few months a year among the Dardani was
going to make it hard to find someone he could grow closer to as time went on.

Arcas asked Cestus to officiate at the wedding. From Vatar’s
perspective, Elaria’s parents seemed a little dubious. Their attitude changed
dramatically when High Councilor Veleus and Master Healer Boreala arrived to
join the festivities.

Vatar strode over to greet his father and half-sister. “Glad
you could come. It’ll mean a lot to Arcas.”

“Well, no disrespect to Arcas, but I’m here for you,” Father
said. “I wouldn’t pass up another chance to spend some time with you. Besides,
I thought Arcas getting married might make you feel a little . . . sad. Maybe a
little left out.”

Vatar shrugged. “Only a little. I’m not sorry Avaza’s not
here. I do miss the twins, every day. They’ll have changed so much by the next
time I see them. As for marriage, I’m afraid my crazy half-and-half lifestyle
is going to make it difficult to find someone else.”

Father laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re
what? Seventeen?”

“Almost eighteen,” Vatar said.

“Well, give yourself some time. You’ll find the right girl,”
Father answered.

Vatar flashed briefly on the well-known face—red hair, green
eyes, and a sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of the nose. He half-smiled,
even though he knew she wasn’t real.  “Maybe someday.”

“And meanwhile, we’ll play chess as often as you like,”
Father said.

The feast that followed the ceremony truly did justice to
Aunt Castalia’s cooking.

“I still expect you and Arcas—and Elaria, of course—to come
to dinner on seventh-days,” Aunt Castalia said.

Vatar smiled at her. “I never need persuasion to eat your
cooking. I’ll come for seventh-day dinner whenever I can.” He looked over at
the newlyweds and remembered his first nights with Avaza. “In fact, I was
thinking of staying in my old apprentice quarters for a couple of weeks, if
that’s all right with you. Just for a little while.”

Avaza sat down out of earshot of the other women and
sniffed, trying not to let the tears fall—again. All winter she’d dreaded
summer and the return to Zeda. She’d been right, too. When Vatar returned,
she’d been hustled back to her own clan, banished from her own babies. Why
couldn’t he just have stayed in Caere? Why couldn’t he have gotten lost
crossing the plains? Or . . . eaten by a bear? And no one in her clan would
even commiserate with her over the injustice. Draza even seemed to think it was
all
her
fault. It was so unfair.

Maktaz sidled up and hunkered down beside her. “Can I help?”

Avaza sniffed again. “Help with what?”

“Why, help you get your children back, perhaps,” Maktaz
said.

Avaza snorted. “You can’t. No one can. Everyone insists that
they’re Lion Clan and belong with
them
. Even the chiefs agree.”

Maktaz cocked his head to the side. “But your heart told you
they were Raven Clan when they were born, didn’t it? I heard you tried to give
them Raven Clan names, but the other women changed them to Lion Clan names. You
are, after all, their mother. Maybe everyone else is wrong. Perhaps, if I knew
more, I could convince the chiefs.”

Avaza sat up. “How?”

Maktaz smiled. “Leave that to me. You just tell me
everything about your stay in Caere.”

Avaza blushed. “Everything?”

Maktaz patted her shoulder. “Everything about Vatar. What
does he do there? Who does he see? Anything that might seem unusual.”

Avaza bit her lip and thought for a moment. “Well, Vatar has
another father in Caere. He says this other father is the one who sired him,
not Danar. So he doesn’t have any Dardani blood at all.”

Maktaz’s smile widened. “You see. That’s exactly the sort of
thing I need to know. How can your children be Lion Clan if their father isn’t
even Dardani? Go on, my dear, tell me everything you know about him.”

~

Avaza walked across the square, weaving through the
Midsummer crowd. At least they let her go see her babies every day. As long as
everyone was here at Zeda, anyway. When the clans broke up, she wouldn’t see
them again until next summer. It wasn’t fair.

She paused when she heard the shaman’s voice. Something he’d
just said grabbed at her, but she hadn’t been paying attention. She wasn’t sure
just what it was that had caught her ear. She looked around. There he was,
talking to some Wolf Clan men.

“No man can have two fathers. You all know that,” Maktaz
said in his oiliest, most persuasive voice. “It’s not possible. So how is it
that Vatar claimed to Avaza that he had two fathers—Danar here and another in
Caere?”

The Wolf Clan men shook their heads and muttered.

“I’ll tell you how. We all know that Vatar is Danar’s son.
Many of you knew him as a baby. But when Vatar, our Vatar, was left alone and
unprotected in Caere, he was possessed by an Evil Spirit. The man in Caere that
Vatar calls his father is the sire of that Spirit, not Vatar.”

Maktaz’s voice grew even oilier. “I hate to see a hero of
the tribe brought low like this. But the chiefs will not permit me to take
action. Danar, a chief himself, will not hear of it and his brother chiefs
support him. Now, many of you are fathers. You can understand his reluctance.
But in order to save Vatar, our young hero, I must perform an exorcism.”

Avaza suppressed a gasp. Exorcism! She hated Vatar, but . .
. not
that
much. Not enough to watch him be brutally tortured to drive
the Evil Spirit out. Anyway,
she’d
never seen any sign of an Evil Spirit.

“I
dunno
,” one of the Wolf Clan
men said. “If the chiefs don’t think . . .”

“You need more proof before you accept such an extreme
solution,” Maktaz continued. “I respect that. Consider this. Why would Vatar
continually return to the Temple of these foreign Sea Gods? What hold could
they have on him?”

“He wouldn’t,” one man said with certainty.

“Exactly,” Maktaz agreed. “But the Spirit that possesses him
comes from those very Sea Gods, or Evil Spirits of the sea, and returns to
them. Why would Vatar continue to return to Caere at all? He’s a very capable
smith. We’ve all seen that. It was the spears he made that allowed the young
men to kill the tigers year before last. He doesn’t need further training. But
the possessing Spirit yearns for the place of its birth, just as Vatar, our
Vatar, should yearn to be among us.”

Maktaz’s listeners were muttering now—some in agreement.

“You want still more proof?” The words came out slightly
slurred. Maktaz paused and continued more slowly. “Then consider this. How many
Dardani women have you known to bear twins? It’s unnatural.”

His listeners mumbled. None of them could remember another
twin birth among the Dardani.

“Goats have twins,” Maktaz continued. “Sometimes cattle or
horses. Our women do not. Yet a good Raven Clan woman has given birth to twins.
Why? Because the father is two Spirits—our own Vatar and the Evil Spirit that
has possessed him.”

Maktaz drove the point home. “The chiefs will not act. If we
are to save this fine young man—my own son’s dearest friend—then the people
must force them to act. We must do this for Vatar’s own sake.”

Avaza turned and ran back to the women’s hut, half-blinded
by tears. Not only was Maktaz threatening the worst possible death for Vatar,
he had extended the threat to her babies. He had never intended to help her at
all. He had just wanted enough information to hurt Vatar and her children. What
should she do now?

When she burst into the women’s hut, it was deserted except
for old Draza dozing in the cool and quiet away from the crowd in the square.
Draza looked up as Avaza threw herself on the floor next to her.

“Draza! I’ve made the most terrible mistake! I don’t know
what to do!”

“Calm down, child. What have you done that is so awful?”

“Maktaz said he could help me get my babies. I was such a
fool! I believed him. I told him things about Vatar. He’s twisting them all
around, turning them into lies. He’s persuading people that Vatar is possessed
by an Evil Spirit from Caere. He’s trying to get them to demand an exorcism.
And worse. . .”

“What could be worse?” the old woman hissed.

“He’s saying that my babies are the offspring of this Evil
Spirit. He wants to hurt them, too! Draza, what do I do?”

The old woman grasped Avaza’s arm. “You must tell Vatar. He
needs to be warned if he’s to protect himself and the children. Then you must
ask him to name the price of your honor-debt.”

Avaza swallowed, shaking her head. She couldn’t face Vatar
now.

Draza gave her arm a little shake. “Come, girl. I’ll go with
you.”

~

Avaza stopped, dragging Draza to a halt next to her when she
spotted Vatar enjoying the feast with his family. Danar and Lucina intimidated
her. It wasn’t anything they’d ever actually done or said. They’d never even
been unpleasant to her. But they were just so much more
there
than
anyone else she knew—even Draza. They made her feel, well,
drab
, but on
the inside. She wasn’t used to feeling drab and she didn’t like it.

Avaza shook her head. “I can tell him tomorrow. No need to
interrupt the feast.”

Draza pulled her forward. “No time like the present.”

Vatar looked up as they stepped forward. “Hello, Avaza,” he
said guardedly.

She wrung her hands with anxiety. “Vatar, I’ve done
something very stupid. I was silly and resentful and I let Maktaz talk me into
telling him things,” she said in a rush.

“Slow down,” Vatar said. “What could you possibly tell
Maktaz that would matter?”

Avaza kept her head down. “I told him about your other
father and your lessons in the Temple and—”

“So? None of that’s a secret,” Vatar interrupted her.

Avaza looked up. “He’s twisting everything. Making it into
lies. He’s trying to tell people that you’re possessed by an Evil Spirit. He .
. . he wants to perform an exorcism.”

“What!” Lucina exclaimed.

“The chiefs would never permit it,” Danar said.

Avaza dropped her head again, afraid to meet their eyes.
“No. That’s why he’s trying to inflame the people. So they’ll force the chiefs
to act.”

“It won’t work,” Vatar said.

“It could,” Danar disagreed. “But now that we know, we can
counter it.”

“And. . .” Avaza started.

“And? There’s more?” Vatar said.

Avaza nodded. “And, he’s claiming that I had twins because
you are possessed. He’s threatening our babies, too.”

Danar’s eyes narrowed. “The babies are too young to be in danger
now. But if this isn’t stopped they could be later.”

Draza gave Avaza a little shove.

“Vatar, this probably isn’t the right time . . .”

Vatar visibly suppressed a sigh. “What else?”

“I need to ask you to set the price of my honor-debt. I shouldn’t
have told Maktaz anything. I should have believed you when you said he would
try to hurt our babies. How can I regain my honor?” Avaza squirmed under
Vatar’s gaze.

Finally he said, “There’s only one way. You must tell the
truth.”

Avaza shook her head, wide-eyed. “No one will believe me
over Maktaz.”

Vatar held her eyes with his. “Whether they believe you or
not, you must tell the truth to whoever will listen.”

Avaza bowed her head. “It is a fair price.”

Vatar sat with his children the next day, holding their
pudgy little hands as they toddled around him. He looked up when Pa came in.

“You’ve finished most of the repairs there were to do here.
I think it’s time to return to Caere. I’ll be coming with you this year. We
might as well leave soon.”

Vatar pulled Savara into his lap. “I’m not going to run away
from this, Pa.”

Danar sat down across from him. “You wouldn’t be running
away from anything. This is the business you and Arcas have started. You come
out here to trade and then you return to Caere for the winter.”

Vatar smiled and shook his head. “Leaving early would
look
like running away. In these circumstances, that would be just as bad. How much
worse would it be when I come back next year? No. Better to face this now
before it has a chance to grow in my absence.”

Pa shook his head. “Stubborn. So what are your plans?”

Vatar sighed. “I don’t know yet. I’d thought of going to
Maktaz to offer to pay an honor-debt for Torkaz’s death. It galls, because I
don’t see what else I could have done to save Torkaz, but if it’d put an end to
this—”

“
Don’t
do that, Vatar,” Pa interrupted. “It wouldn’t
help. You’d hand him too much power. If Maktaz refuses to accept your offer, he
leaves you without honor. That would delight him and make your situation much
more tenuous. Or he could set a price that would cost your life, which is
clearly the end he’s aiming for anyway.”

Vatar sighed again and nodded. “You’re right. But there has
to be a way to put a stop to this vendetta. It can’t go on like this.”

Pa shook his head. “I wish I knew how.”

~

Vatar sang as he worked the iron and steel at his forge,
pausing only when a fleeting glimpse of red-hair and green eyes invaded his
thoughts. Whatever Father said, he knew she wasn’t real. Still, somehow, her
appearance always made him smile.

Beyond that occasional image, Vatar was completely absorbed
in his work, making a long-bladed knife to order for Daron, oblivious to
everything beyond the steel under his hammer. The strong wind broke into his
concentration only because it fanned the fire in his furnace. The boom of
nearby thunder shook his focus away from his work. A forge full of iron tools
was no place to be during a thunderstorm. He immediately set his work aside and
started closing down the forge.

When he finished and stepped outside, he became aware of a
handful of people staring at the top of the chimney.
That’s odd.
Vatar
took several more steps back and then turned and looked up. A violet light
danced around the top of the chimney. Vatar swore. He’d learned about Tabeus’s
Fire early in his training at the Smiths’ Guild. In fact, in Caere, the big
bell at the top of the Guild Hall would be ringing its warning to all the
smiths in the city. The strange purple light was harmless in itself, but it was
a warning of lightning to come. If he’d known about the Tabeus’s Fire, he’d
have cleared the forge much earlier. He looked down from the chimney to find
himself face to face with Maktaz.

An evil, triumphant grin split the left side of the shaman’s
face. The right side seemed oddly slack, making the expression even more
disturbing. “I’ve got you now.” The words came out slightly slurred.

A chill went down Vatar’s spine.
Now we’re in for it. I
should have known he’d find a way to strike at me.
Before he could answer,
a small ball of blue light zoomed in from nowhere. It hovered between Vatar and
Maktaz. Vatar had recognized the Tabeus’s Fire, but this was like nothing he’d
ever seen or heard of. He swallowed hard and backed away from the glowing,
flickering orb. So did Maktaz. Vatar stopped with his back against the chimney
of his forge—not the best place to be with a thunderstorm threatening—and
raised his hand in the warding gesture that evoked the head of a roaring lion.

The ball disappeared with a loud bang, startling everyone in
the square. And odd tingling crept across Vatar’s skin. For a moment, he
remained still, not sure that the uncanny sphere was really gone.

Maktaz took a single step forward, raising his right hand to
point at Vatar. He froze for an instant, then fell over.

Vatar stood rooted to the spot, uncertain how to respond.
His heartbeat seemed louder in his ears than the thunder. The clouds opened,
releasing torrents of rain. That drove most of the other Dardani to shelter. A
few still hovered around Maktaz.

Arcas came across the square and tugged on Vatar’s arm.
“Come on. It won’t do any good to be seen standing over him. Come on, move.”

~

Vatar looked up as Pa pushed aside the hide covering the
door and stepped down into the hut.

“It’s not good, Vatar. Word of what happened has spread
around the village like wildfire. Worse, Maktaz still can’t move his right arm
or leg.

Vatar shrugged. “Falling sickness. He was slurring his words
and half his face was slack before anything else happened.”

Pa shook his head. “Yes. He’s had these fits before,
although the chiefs have tried to keep them quiet. But too many people heard
what he said to you right before . . . whatever that was. If it had been just
the Spirit Fire, we’d have been able to explain that—”

“Spirit Fire?” Arcas asked.

Pa waved his hand. “That violet light. Most men who have
worked the herds have seen it at one time or another. Usually before or during
a thunderstorm, like today. Enough men have seen it playing around the horns of
the cattle or the branches of trees that the chiefs would have had no trouble
dismissing it. But that exploding ball of light. That’s another matter.”

“I have no idea what that was or where it came from. I’ve
never seen or heard of anything like it, Pa,” Vatar said.

“I know,” Pa said. “Neither has anyone else—and that’s going
to play into Maktaz’s hands. You have to leave tonight, Vatar. Ride straight
back to Caere now.”

Vatar’s brows rose to his hairline. “In a thunderstorm?”

“You’ve ridden through thunderstorms before. You can again,”
Pa said.

Vatar shook his head. “And that won’t look at all
suspicious, will it? If there’s a better way to convince the entire tribe that
Maktaz is right about me, I can’t think of it.”

Pa grabbed his arm. “Vatar, after this the chiefs may not be
able to control the situation. You
have
to leave. Maktaz’s fits only
last a few hours. By morning, he’ll be calling for your blood.”

The lump of lead that had taken up residence in Vatar’s
stomach got heavier at his father’s words, but he couldn’t run away. It wasn’t
just about him anymore. “And if I leave now, what about them?” Vatar pointed
toward the twins, sleeping curled up next to Fenar. “I certainly can’t carry
them through a storm like this.”

Pa glanced toward the children. “I’ll bring them to you in
Caere.”

Vatar drew a deep breath. “No. I’m not entirely sure they’ll
be safe in Caere, either. Safe from the Searchers. And I don’t want them to
grow up not knowing the plains and their own people. If I take them away now,
they’ll never be able to return without a cloud over them. The only way they
can ever be safe and free is if I face Maktaz. Put an end to this.”

Pa shot to his feet. “Vatar, you can’t submit to an
exorcism!”

Vatar made a chopping motion with his hand. “No, of course
not. I have to find another way. And I’m staying until I do.”

“Vatar—”

“No, Pa,” Vatar said, his face grim.