Tyrant Trouble (Mudflat Magic) (29 page)

Bracing
myself with my hands on the tabletop, I leaned over the box and breathed in
very carefully. Again, there was no scent.

Tarvik
had been furious when he banished Ober, hissing, “Will you stay to tell my
father that your daughter came to my room and mixed a drink for me? Shall I
show him the locket she wears with its traces of the powder she added to my
drink?”

Was
this more of that powder? A drug of sorts? Anything from a sleeping aid to a
mood changer to a 'knock 'em dead' potion?

Didn't
want perfume, especially that stuff, so I put the little bottle back in the
drawer, then slid it closed. It was harmless but nothing I cared to have
sticking to my skin.

The
other two items, the vial of clear liquid and the little metal box filled with
powder, might be anything. Until I knew what to do with them, I might as well
keep them. I closed both containers and dropped them into my pocket.

Tarvik's
room was next. I went into it, knowing it would hold very little. Again, the tapestries
were gone, the walls bare, the secret entrance closed, the edges of the door
invisible among the many lines between stones. A long dark table remained
against a wall, nothing else. Now I knew about hidden drawers, I crossed the
room and headed straight to the table. Without crawling under the table I was
able to reach below its top, find the drawer and slide it out.

More
vials and boxes. Didn't think Tarvik mixed magic potions. The guy liked to
cook, so I would believe spices, but that face was all too open and expressive
to be a mask for a mage. And then, through the dusky light, I saw the neat row
of brushes lying in the dark drawer. They had long wooden handles and thin
bristles, artist's brushes in several sizes. When I opened the first vial, I
found a thick purple powder. The next contained green. There were a half dozen
little metal boxes, each containing a thick paste in a different color.

Paints.
Not cosmetics. Not what Nance put on our faces. These were real paints for
making pictures.

I
turned to the opposite wall, the corner that used to hold the pile of
sheepskins and blankets that were Tarvik's bed. Those were gone.

From
a high window slit a pale line of light cut across the wall. I could barely
make out the drawings that decorated his room, a collection of wild animals and
a picture of Tarvik's horse Banner. I’d seen them the first time I’d been in
his room. So much had happened since then, I’d forgotten them. I wandered over
to study them more closely, took a moment to look at each drawing. They were
pretty, neatly done with the fur of each animal carefully painted in sure
strokes. I ran my fingers lightly over them, not wanting to disturb or damage
them. It was comforting, in that empty room, to touch something familiar.

As
I turned toward the doorway I saw another painting, one I did not remember, on
the wall between the corner and the door. I went toward it, noticed the dark
lines framing a pale oval. In the shadows my eyes had to adjust to the lack of
light. Or was it that my mind didn't want to accept what I saw?

The
dark frame was flowing hair, long dark hair, moving as though in a breeze to
circle the pale oval. That oval was my face, my eyes and nose and mouth. The
exact curve of my eyebrows and length of lashes, the line of shadow beneath my
cheekbones, a surprisingly accurate likeness right down to the slight frown
that I must admit is my normal expression.

But
what was a drawing of me doing here on Tarvik's wall, near the door, painted in
colors that carefully matched my own skin and hair? It was spooky. I turned
slowly to look at the opposite end of the wall where Tarvik's bed used to be.
Lying on his bed, he'd be looking at my face.

And
who'd want him to do that? No one at all except Tarvik himself. The painting
was recent. It certainly couldn't have been there when he let Alakar into his
room. Though if it had been, hmm, no wonder she was willing to poison him.

No,
that wasn't possible. Nance and I and the magician had been here after Alakar
had drugged him. We carried him out. One of us would have noticed the picture.
There was only one person with access to this room who knew me without the
paints and powders and elaborate hairstylings of the temple, and studied my
face enough to draw it. I don't know which bit of information surprised me
more, that the guy could do portraits or that he wanted my picture on his wall.

I
left the castle and circled back toward the temple courtyard. On my walk around
the stable, I paused at the door. It was empty like every place else, no horses,
no blankets, no reins. The bins were swept clean of feed, the dirt floor raked.
All that was left here of the horses was a water trough, dark beneath the
cracking film of ice, and the lingering odor of their warm bodies. Damn, now I
was so lonely I missed the horses.

“A
girl afraid of horses,” Tarvik had said and laughed at me. Wherever they both
were, Nance and Tarvik, I hoped they were far enough away to be safe. If we all
survived Erlan, I needed to leave this country quickly because I was beginning
to think of Nance and Tarvik as close friends. Oh sure, might as well imagine
us all back in Mudflat and me saying, “Let me introduce you to my new friends,
the barbarians.”

On
the third night after the evacuation, I built my fire in the temple courtyard,
ate my really boring supper which consisted of the last onion browned in oil
and then simmered slowly until it was a pale imitation of onion soup. If Erlan
didn't finish me off, my own cooking soon would. Then, as Lor had instructed
me, I went to the castle. It stood on the highest ground. The thicket trees, a
pleasant clump of tangled branches in the daylight, at night reached out like
many-fingered hands. Where once hundreds of cook fires had dotted the
surrounding hills and clouded the air with smoke, now the empty huts made
shadow patches on the slopes. I am not brave and I am not an outdoor person, so
what was I doing? Yeah, well, I’d been tossed into another world. It made me
someone I hardly recognized.

I
ran to the castle, hurried past the gates and turned to climb the narrow stone
stairs that the guards used to mount the outer wall.

At
the top, I stood slowly and did not look down. I never liked to stand at the
edge of a high place with nothing to grasp. A balcony with a railing is okay. A
cliff is not okay. The top of the wall was worse than a cliff. There was no
place to step back or turn away. It was just wide enough to walk on, no more. I
walked slowly, my feet feeling the way.

What
I wanted to do was drop to my knees and crawl. To do so would be to tangle my
hands and legs in my long cloak. That or drop the cloak and crawl in my short
tunic. If I did that, I would soon be numbed by the cold stones. As I had done
for the last three nights, I wound the cloak tightly around myself and shuffled
slowly along the wall until I reached the far corner.

Once
there, I stared into the darkness. And this night I saw what Lor had said I
would see.

Where
a far ridge broke its line in a shadowed valley, I saw the sign of some long
gone river that had once cut its path through the hills and flatlands, then
disappeared. It left its bed, now dry and cracked beneath hundreds of changing
seasons, to form a hard road. In that place where the road widened, there was
the flicker of night fires. Erlan's army. Lor had pointed out the spot and said
it was about a day's march away. They would break camp at sunrise and reach the
city before the next sunset.

I
narrowed my eyes against the windy darkness and searched for another fire
farther to the west.

CHAPTER
18

Two
days earlier, a lifetime ago, Nance and Lor left me.

“We
will be back before Erlan arrives,” Nance had cried, clinging to my hands.
“Stargazer, come with us. You must not remain here alone.”

“Can’t.
If Erlan returns to an empty city, he will trail Tarvik.”

“But
how can you stop him by yourself? He will kill you, Stargazer!”

Tears
had brimmed. In another moment she would have thrown her arms around me and
refused to leave me. As much as I might prefer to let her drag me away with them,
that wasn't a choice. Not to sound conceited, but the way things were, I was
the last best chance for all those poor people to survive. No more than a
chance but it was better than the odds without me.

Standing
straight and looking down at her, my face stiff so she would not see my fear, I
had said, “Think about it, Nance. Tarvik didn't harm me when he first found me.
Neither did Kovat. I have secret magic, stuff I haven't shown you. I can make
Erlan believe what I tell him. I'm okay here and you'll be back in time to help
me save everyone else. Now go on, hurry.”

“But
what if we are late?”

Lor
had pulled tight the last strap, tying their supplies to the two horses.
Without waiting for Nance to think up new arguments, he had grabbed her and
lifted her onto Pacer.

While
she bent away from us to straighten out the animal's reins, he had said, “I
will light the signal where we agreed.”

“Lor,
stay out of the city until after you see Erlan leave. If he stays or follows
Tarvik, take Nance and escape.”

“She
is safe with me.”

Of
course she was. If our plan failed, he would take Nance higher into the
mountains. Nance told me that was where he came from, up near the snow line,
where his small tribe knew how to hide and remain beyond the reach of warring
armies.

“Beyond
Kovat's lands and so far toward sunset, even the elves don't go there,” was how
she had put it. Okay, I accepted that without trying to understand.

Now
I stared west toward the exact spot where the sun would set the next night
beneath the hill. All I could see was shadow overflowing shadow.

As
I headed back toward the temple, I began to doubt my scheme. At least Nance and
Lor were out of it. I would delay Erlan as long as I could to allow Tarvik to
reach a distant valley and set up some sort of defense. Beyond that, there
wasn't much else I could do for them. The trick I planned seemed more and more
hopeless to me. All trick, no magic.

If
his approaching army had crossed routes with Ober's train, Erlan would know
Tarvik knew their plans. Fat chance I'd have of conning the man.

In
the temple courtyard I sat next to the fire and leaned forward with my face and
hands stretched toward the flickering heat until I hypnotized myself into
forgetting what was coming down. Curling up in a sheepskin, I slept fitfully
until daybreak. When I woke I felt ill and feverish, not capable of controlling
any situation.

If
I were a barbarian I would have consoled myself with thoughts of an heroic
death that would take me straight to the gods. Instead I know astronomy, and I
know the sun is this big hot gas thing, but does that have to mean it isn't a
god? How comforting it would be to believe death would release my soul to go
live in some magic place above the clouds, no more unpaid bills, no more Decko
brothers.

In
the mountains the brilliant winter sky was free of city smoke. It exposed every
empty hut and deserted path. I walked back and forth in front of the castle
watching for a fire glint or a wisp of smoke.

Nothing.
Nance and Lor had not returned in time. Just as well, I decided, because my
plan was going to fail. This way they were out of it.

Okay,
it was up to me to do a con job on old Erlan, make him fall on his ugly face in
awe of my magical and priestly powers. Up to me. Last chance.

Nance
herself couldn't have twisted my hair above my head with more care. I stood in
front of the altar with the small mirror Nance left for me, glancing first at
the wall painting and then at my reflection. I jabbed away with the pins and
combs, unsure how Nance managed to make my hair stay put in a pile on my head,
until my arms ached from keeping them raised so long.

Extra
rubber bands would have been a godsend, a quickie route to a double pony tail
or braids, easy to coil on the top of my head and pin into place. No matter what
I did, tendrils always broke loose to fall across my face or down my neck.

The
bank manager hated my hair, along with my clothes, thought they were too
casual, too messy, and I resented that, but man, he never once considered
beheading me. I didn't know back then how lucky I was.

Without
gold threads or jewels, all carefully wrapped and carried off with the temple
treasures, I had only my hair and paints to work with. If Erlan hated slipped
tendrils, I was in big trouble. By the time I pinned the last strand into
place, tears of frustration burned my eyelids. I blinked them away and bent
over Nance's pots of shaded liquids and powders.

When
I couldn't think of one more trick to make me resemble the portrait of the
Daughter, I hid the paints and combs, left my wool cloak in Nance's chamber,
pulled my velvet temple robe over my tunic, and returned to the outer gate to
watch for Erlan. The afternoon sun shone back at itself from the metal
trimmings on the advancing army.

They
moved slowly, a walking pace of men burdened with heavy loads strapped to their
backs. They would reach the city before sunset. Although I knew there was
nothing to see, I peered once more toward the spot where Lor had said he would
set his signal. Then I returned to the temple. If the planets offered me a
choice, I had been unable to read it in my horoscope.

My
only hope lay in Erlan's planets. At this time they offered him nothing. He
would face this challenge and win or lose on his own decisions. He had neither
Kovat's strength nor Tarvik's courage. Erlan was a superstitious man. I was
counting on that, didn't know if it would be enough.

In
the late afternoon when the procession reached the opposite ridge, the army slowed.
Now I could see Erlan at the lead on Kovat's large horse, dressed in fur and
leather, wearing a war helmet. Guards in tattered gear walked on each side of
him. Even the horse looked exhausted. What did Erlan expect to meet? Did he
think a parade, led by templekeepers and his wife and daughter would come out
to greet him? I saw no sign of Ober riding near him, but she might be riding at
the end of the line.