The Vildecaz Talents: The complete set of Vildecaz Stories including Nimuar's Loss, The Deceptive Oracle and Agnith's Promise (78 page)

She put her slippered foot in his hand and let him boost her up behind the saddle, although the assistance wasn’t necessary with the twelve-and-a-half-hand pony. As she settled behind the saddle with their cases around her, she said, “Will we make Vercaz-Old-Fortress by tonight, do you think?”

“Possibly,” he said, mounting the pony. “In any case, we should cross into Vildecaz before nightfall. You’ll be in your own Duzky, Duzeon.”

“All the more reason to be careful tonight,” she said emphatically, her attention full on the road ahead. “We don’t need rumors about my Changing spreading through Vildecaz.”

“Certainly not,” said Doms, studying the intermittent clouds above them. “We’ll have rain by the end of the day.”

“At least it isn’t snow,” she remarked, slipping her arms around his waist and taking comfort from his steady presence.

“We should reach Vildecaz Castle in three days if the rain doesn’t turn all the roads to mud.” He was silent for a dozen heartbeats. “A good time to return.”

“You mean after the third night of the full moon,” she said flatly.

“That, and four days before Last and First Day,” he reminded her. “Your birthday is First Day, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” she said.

“A fortuitous day.”

She leaned against him, her thoughts in confusion. “So I’ve been told,” she said quietly as the seal-brown pony broke into a smooth jog-trot, headed westward.

“We’ll be in Otsinmohr by the day after tomorrow,” Kloveon said to Erianthee as they rode side by side at the head of their party under a leaden sky, the aftermath of three days of rain.  Their progress was slow on the muddy road, yet neither he nor she wanted to hurry on, making the most of this time they had together.  For the last several days, they had limited their conversation to pleasantries, but now that Erianthee was feeling more restored, they made tentative sallies into more serious matters.

“And then two or three days to the Hovanthroee Bridge, and at Vildecaz Castle the next day,” said Erianthee.  “If the weather holds.” Although she still tired quickly and her appetite hadn’t fully returned, she had become impatient with her lassitude and decided to end it.  She had only that day started riding the copper-dun rather than sitting in the wagon with Rygnee.  “We should arrive a few days after First Day.” 

“No doubt you’ll be glad to be home,” said Kloveon, regarding her carefully.

“I will be.  I’ve missed Vildecaz.  I’ve never been gone so long as I have this time, and for such a terrible reason.  I imagine there’ll be a lot to do to catch up with being away so much longer than I intended.  But I’ll be sad to give up so much time with you.”  She stared at him directly.  “I hope you’ll stay with me at Vildecaz for a while, so you can be thanked properly for providing me escort.  I know you have to return to Fauthsku, but . . . “ Her voice trailed off.

“You’re not alone in having to tend to your holdings.  I’ll need to find out what’s happened in Fauthsku before I do anything more,” he said somberly.  “I left under . . . some difficulty.”

She thought of how troubled he had been when he came to her quarters at Tiumboj Castle, and she recalled the doubts the Emperor had about him.  “You’ll need to return fairly quickly, don’t you think?”

“Perhaps,” he said.  “But I may need to seek refuge if Riast still has reservations about what he suspects was my role in his son’s attempt at rebellion.  I hope his magicians have disabused him of his fears in that regard.”

“Do you think that matters to him?  The conjure-storm certainly turned the rebellion into a minor inconvenience, or so it seemed to me,” she said.  “The time I spent in Tiumboj Castle after the storm, I heard very little about the rebellion, The Emperor was more worried about those behind the conjure-storm.  I wasn’t the only one he was pressing for information on its origins.”

“I noticed that, too, about the rebellion  – no one mentioned it, or spoke Bozidar’s name aloud, though it was apparent that many at Court had suspicions.  As the Empire recovers, Riast may decide to connect the conjure-storm with the rebellion.  Fauthsku is a wealthy province, one he’ll need to help pay for his rebuilding.  He was already leaning in the direction of connecting the storm and the rebellion a week after the storm.  Wasn’t that one of the things he thought your visions would show him?”  He shook his head.  “I was questioned several times, and each time they said the conjure-storm was the work of the rebellion.”

“You mentioned that to me,” said Erianthee, thinking back to many of their meetings.

“I mentioned some of it to you, not all.  And since we left Tiumboj, I’ve begun to reckon the many doubts that are still in Riast’s mind.  He has supposed that his son may not want to harm the Empire, but he may ally himself with those who do  – the questioning I have endured suggested that.  Riast accused me of wanting to spare Bozidar from any responsibility he may bear about the conjure-storm because I believe Riast’s son wouldn’t work against the Empire.”  He coughed.  “I may not be welcome in the Porzalk Empire for a while  – until the origins of the conjure-storm are known.”  He rubbed his face with his gloved hand.  “I don’t want to be exiled on unfounded suspicions, but if I must stay away from Fauthsku, then I would like to choose the place.”

“You’re welcome to stay at Vildecaz for as long as you think necessary,” she said at once, knowing it was what he expected, and what she was hoping for.

“That’s generous of you,” he said with a hint of his usual gallantry.  “I thank you, and I’ll accept your offer if it’s necessary, provided my being there won’t put you in danger.”  He glanced back at the company behind them.  “I wish I knew what became of our guide.”

“You said he was hurt in the fight,” she reminded him.

“Yes, he told me he had a cut to the leg.  He said he’d catch up with us,” Kloveon told her.  “But he’s still missing.”

“Perhaps his injuries have kept him abed.  Cuts to the leg can take a long time to heal.”  Erianthee blushed as she said this, thinking of her own swoon and her gradual recovery.  “Perhaps, once we reach Vildecaz Castle, we should send a messenger back to The Blue Hound to see if there’s been any report on him, or if he has been there.  I’ll also send a letter to the Priests of Dallan-Noj as well, in case they’ve taken him in.  They’d be apt to do that.” 

“He’s the Emperor’s man, provided to me, and it behooves me to look after him.  I’ll dispatch the letters, if you won’t object.”

“If it’s necessary, then do as you think best,” said Erianthee.  “Do you think he might have known the men would attack us?  Is that the reason for your hesitation?”

“Perhaps,” he said.

“What do you think happened to him?”  she asked, aware that his incertitude could work against him.

“I don’t know  – and that bothers me.  When the masked men fled, he might well have gone with them, or after them.  They could have captured him during the fray.  He could have gone off on his own, getting away from the fighting. I wish someone had noticed.”  He made an impatient gesture and scowled at his own cogitations.  “Well, nothing I can do now, is there?  I’m not about to ask you to use your talent to discover his fate  – that would be reprehensible.”

“You can keep on toward Vildecaz,” she suggested.  “Time enough to make inquiries when we get there.  We have Magsto Zhanf there, I trust, whose talent is very great.”

“If he’s there, then I’ll ask him.  If not  – is your household magician talented at locating the missing?”

Erianthee laughed.  “Heijot Merinex?  If they’re within the Castle walls, probably, but beyond them, I think not.  He’s not really very effective beyond the walls.”

Kloveon pressed his lips closed, saying nothing for fifty heartbeats.  “Someone will help us.”

“Once we arrive?  Yes, I guess so.”

This uncertainty was new to Erianthee, and it troubled Kloveon. “What about your sister?” he ventured.  “Won’t she be willing to – ”

“Her talents extend to communicating with animals, not humans.  But perhaps the animals can tell her something, and we can learn from what she discovers.  I’d like to find out if she and I could effect a communication together.”  It struck Erianthee that she would have a great deal to tell Ninianee upon her return, and a vast amount of new information to impart.  Again she felt slightly ashamed that she had left her sister to deal with Vildecaz while she went to the Imperial Court, for Ninianee would have had to contend with her Changing on her own, which Erianthee knew was difficult.

“I hope she won’t mind if I ask her to try,” said Kloveon.  “I think I’ll need to know more about many things before I’ll have an idea about what’s best to do  – for both of us.”

“I don’t think she will mind, not if she understands why we’re asking,” said Erianthee, not wholly convinced that Ninianee would be willing to undertake such an effort.  “If my father has returned,” she went on, trying to sound confident, “he may be able to help.”

“I hope he has,” said Kloveon.

“So do I,” said Erianthee.  “I hate not knowing where he is, or what’s become of him.”

Kloveon nodded.  “Understandably.”

Erianthee tried to summon up a witty response, but discovered that she couldn’t find the right words to be encouraging and amusing at once.  She decided to change the subject.  “We’ll have at least five more nights together.”

“More than that, I hope,” he said, his glumness vanishing.

“You mean once we’re back at Vildecaz Castle, you want to continue officially?”

She felt a sudden nervousness at the contemplation of such a step, and the significant alteration such a declaration represented.  In spite of their joyous couplings, she wasn’t yet sure of his purpose with her.  “You needn’t continue with me if all you want is sanctuary.  You may have that for all you’ve done.”

“Do you want to end our love-making?”  He tried to keep his tone neutral, but without success.

“No.  But you don’t have to share my bed in order to have my protection.”  She kept her gaze on the road ahead.  “Unless you want to continue as we have been.”

“Of course I do.”  His voice rang with sincerity.  “You didn’t think I was only acting out of impulse, did you, or to gain your protection.  I’ve been courting you for over a year.”

“As Mirkal of Fauthsku,” she reminded him.  “Alliance with Vildecaz would benefit Fauthsku a great deal.  You told me so yourself.”

“In the hope you would consider my offer,” he said.  “You and I have to deal with our positions in life, even in love, little though we may want to.”

“I’m aware of that.”  She drew in her copper-dun and moved a little closer to him as the road narrowed.  Behind them, the mounted escorts moved in between the wagons rather than flank them.

Kloveon became uncomfortable.  “The Emperor could exile me and pass Fauthsku to someone he felt was more worthy to hold it for him.  It’s not the kind of thing Riast has done before, but he hasn’t had to face so much disruption until now, for with all the ruin in Tiumboj, he must depend upon his allies far more than he has in the past.  I might have to give half the income of my Mirkalin to the Empire so that the Empire can be fully restored, which would be a burden to all the people of Fauthsku/ Perhaps Riast could order me to Court as a means of insuring Fauthsku’s allegiance  – he’s done that with others in my position, in which case you would be expected to accompany me. That might change how my status as official suitor would be perceived, both in Vildecaz and the Porzalk Empire.  Vildecaz might not want one of its Duzeons so much under the demands of the Emperor.”

“Possibly, but none of those considerations is enough for me to revoke my acceptance of you,” said Erianthee, who had anticipated this reservation and was prepared to deal with it.  “My father is himself something of an exile, even in his own Duzky.”

“Do you think he will return?”  Kloveon asked hesitantly.  Since she had manifested a god, Kloveon thought she might have a greater understanding of her father’s fate, though she said nothing about it.

“I think he will if he’s alive,” said Erianthee, and patted the copper-dun’s neck as if to reassure herself as much as the horse.  “I don’t know when.”

“Oh, Erianthee,” he said, keenly aware of her sadness.

“We’ll probably know more once we reach Vildecaz,” she said, trying to persuade herself this was a reasonable expectation.

He smiled.  “Yes.  Probably we will.”

* * *

They came down on Duz Kinzyrach’s Road that ran from the Hovanthroee Bridge to the Library of Duz Kinzyrach and led past the North Tower and the North Gate of Vildecaz Castle, Doms in the saddle, Ninianee up behind him, their chests and cases strapped around her.  The afternoon was sunny, warm in the light but cold in the shadows, a reminder that winter hadn’t yet departed.  Womilaj picked up his pace as he sensed the approach to his own paddock and stable.  As they neared the gate, the pony whinnied, and was answered by a chorus of others.  It was the twenty-seventh day of the Thirteenth Month, and Last Day was four days away, just as Doms had reckoned, and there were signs of activity inside the Castle walls.

“Are you ready to return?”  Doms asked Ninianee.  “We could just ride on toward the Library and choose another road to try.”

“Don’t jest,” she said lightly.  “I have to return to the Castle and my life.”