VirtualWarrior (19 page)

Lien frowned. “Unless she has discovered a way around the
honor bit.”

Nilrem sighed. “I pray you are wrong, pilgrim. This was the
one treasure I worried about most if it fell into the hands of the wrong
person.”

“Great.” Lien shook his head. “Okay. Here’s another wrinkle.
Let’s say some councilor saw a way to get some power if he could seduce a woman
or even a man. He stole the vial, but couldn’t figure out how to use it, ‘cause
just by stealing it he proved he’s dishonorable. Right so far?”

Ardra and Nilrem nodded.

“So the councilor trades or sells the potion to the goddess
for a quick buck—”

“A councilor would not sell a treasure for a buck. Not even
the white hart,” Ardra said.

“Okay, Ardra. The councilor sells it to the goddess for some
gold. She wants it because she’s learned a way around the honor thing. Maybe
she could get a child to give it to someone—”

“A child? Not a seduction potion. What man would take a love
potion from a child? Nilrem.” Ardra turned to the old man. “We must inspect Cidre’s
herbarium. Will you take me through it?”

“Me?” The old man drew back. “I have no wish to tempt evil.
You will have to find another way to search her space.”

“You disappoint me,” Ardra said.

“What I want to know is why the goddess wants the potion?”
Lien asked, hoping to ease the tension between the two. He’d persuade the old
man sometime when Ardra wasn’t around. “What is Cidre missing in her life?”

Nilrem rose to his feet. “That I am happy to answer. Cidre
is young and beautiful; she has no daughter. Her consort is old. I will wager
she has chosen another. And he is unwilling.”

“Who’s that?” Lien stood up and pointed through the apple
trees toward the lake.

“Travelers? Your eyes are better than mine, young Lien,”
Nilrem said.

“Maybe. Men. Walking.”

“Let us see,” Nilrem said.

As Lien and Ardra followed in Nilrem’s wake, Lien thought
the wiseman pretty chipper for an old guy.

On the path that edged the lake, a small party of men could
be seen. Swirls of dust wreathed their feet.

Lien shaded his eyes to see better and thought of another
thing he missed—sunglasses. The group became visible as five men. They wore
long robes like Nilrem’s, but unlike the wiseman, they were young and
healthy-looking.

“Interesting,” Nilrem said. “We travel to a fortress that I
imagine receives few visitors, and now we find more on our tail.”

They returned to the hall, and Nilrem informed Cidre she had
guests. It was an unnecessary announcement, as guards were rushing across the
courtyard to greet the party.

Ralen rose and walked to Ollach, “Remain with Ardra.”

Ollach stood behind her, one hand on his sword hilt, the
other on a rather long dagger in his belt. Lien felt a bit useless but hung
around anyway.

The visitors were deemed harmless, Lien supposed, because
they were escorted to where Cidre sat. She had moved to a chair between two
guards, tall men that Lien had to look at twice to be sure they weren’t twins.
Frick und Frack, he had dubbed them.

The visitors turned out to be pilgrims. Lien swallowed a
chuckle.

“I bid you welcome,” Cidre said. She did not rise or do the
curtsey thing.

The pilgrims all bowed to her. They wore long, scratchy
robes similar to the one Lien had first worn.

The leader was tall and reed-thin, with a pointy chin. His
friends were also thin, except for one short man, the shortest Lien had seen so
far in Tolemac. The other three pilgrims were so nondescript that he would not
be able to pick them out in a crowd later, he thought.

“We wish to trespass on your hospitality. Our supplies are
low, and it is our hope you might spare us some apples from your orchard,” the
leader said.

Cidre smiled. “You may pick all you can carry.” She signaled
to the child in yellow. “Tell the kitchen to give these pilgrims some of our
fresh bread.” She addressed the pilgrims again. “My fortress is known for its
bread,” she said.

Watch out for the surprise ingredient
, Lien wanted to
say.

“You are too kind.” The pilgrims all bowed an excessive six
or seven times. Maybe they’d heard the evil-goddess rumors on their travels.

“We have a pilgrim with us,” Samoht said, and everyone
looked in Lien’s direction.

Damn.

The five men pivoted with the rest and peered about the
hall.

“Lien, come forward,” Samoht said. Lien couldn’t refuse,
though he hated to leave Ardra’s side. He worked his way to the fore of the
crowd and bowed to the visitors.

The pilgrims looked him over as if it were he who smelled
like a stable, not them.

“You are garbed as a warrior. Lien, is it?” the tall one
said. His nose was as pointed as his chin.

Lien nodded. He thought he should say as little as possible.

Nilrem poked his own sharp nose into the conversation. He
tapped his stick on the ground for attention. “Lien was set upon by outcasts
and nearly killed. His robes were stolen.”

Yeah, my wealthy non-pilgrim robes, damn it.

“Ah,” the leader said, and his cronies nodded in unison.
“Then you are in luck. Lak, have I not an extra robe in my satchel?”

“Why, of course!” One of the nondescript three rooted in a
pack and drew out a robe that looked none too clean.

Samoht hooked it from the man’s fist. “This is most kind of
you. Here, Lien, put this on that you might be once again recognized by all as
a pilgrim.”

Go to hell
, Lien thought, but he took the robe. It
was heavier than the one Nilrem had given him and had a deep hood. It was still
a rough garment.

“I have a most wonderful thought,” Samoht said. “Why do you
not join these men and continue your pilgrimage?”

Lien felt all eyes on him. He could feel Ardra’s drilling
into his back.

Cidre rose from her seat. “I think Lien is needed here.”

“How?” Samoht whirled around to face her.

“Nilrem,” Cidre said. “Did you not tell me Lien saved
Ardra’s life? Did you not say he was bound to her until she returned the
favor?”

“Aye, that I did,” Nilrem said.

The child staggered back down the hall with a bread basket
almost larger than she was. All but the sharp-nosed pilgrim fell upon the
basket, stuffing the bread into their satchels.

Ardra maneuvered past Ollach and pulled the robe from Lien’s
arms. “I think Lien should stay right where he is. In truth, he saved my life
three times, not just once.”

Ralen, who had said nothing, pushed through the group and
stood by Cidre’s chair. “Why do you argue over him like dogs with a bone? He
has a voice. Let him make the choice.”

Everyone fell silent. Lien scanned their faces. Here was his
opportunity to leave, to slip the noose of responsibility that Ardra was
pulling tight around his neck.

If he stayed, he would have to help Ardra. If he left, he
would probably never see her again.

Cidre answered for him. “Why not rest here for the day,
pilgrims? I have a special feast planned and would be disappointed if any of
you missed it. Lien can leave with you on the sunrising if that be his choice.”

“Thank you,” Lien said to Cidre. “I’ll decide after the
feast.”

Ardra endured a few hours in the hall, listening to the
didactic pilgrims. She noticed that Einalem had slipped away, but Lien sat with
Cidre, listening carefully to the visitors.

He would leave.

She knew it. He would leave at the sunrising, garbed in
rough wool, and she would never know…know what? How he felt about her? Where he
had gone?

It would be obvious that he felt nothing if he left her. And
his reluctance to look at her, even to turn his dark eyes in her direction, told
her he would go.

It was as plain as the nose on her face, as the wiseman
said. How disappointed she was in Nilrem. Of course he was not a warrior, but
she had expected greater valor in the matter of searching Cidre’s herbarium.

She thought of a person who could visit the herbarium
without suspicion.
Einalem.

Ardra walked past some of Ralen’s men. One of them made a
remark about old men needing the mating dancer, to service their young women.

She turned around. “You will keep a respectful tongue in
your mouth. I imagine the goddess would take offense at that remark.”

The man bowed and had the grace to look ashamed—and afraid.
Although Ardra knew he had made the remark for her benefit, it suited the
goddess’s circumstances as well.

Ardra mounted the stairs to the gallery of bedchambers. The
disrespect of the warriors would only grow worse the longer Samoht withheld her
power.
Four days left.

A serving woman pointed out Einalem’s chamber. The door was
slightly open. Ardra pushed it, took one look inside, then jumped back and
eased it closed. She darted into her own chamber and sat on her bed couch with
a thump. Her heart raced. Never in all her days would she eradicate from her
mind what she had just seen. Never.

Ardra licked her lips.

Deleh opened the chamber door. “Ah, there you are. Ollach
said you were most likely here.” Deleh dropped her cloak over a bench and knelt
by Ardra. “What is wrong, child?”

“I have seen something I cannot believe.”

“Tell me.”

“I cannot!” Ardra shot to her feet. She fanned her face with
her hands. “Is it not hot in here?”

“You do not trust me, do you?” Tears welled in Deleh’s eyes.
“I am naught but a useless old woman.”

Ardra sighed. She picked up Deleh’s cloak and carefully hung
it on a peg by the door. “You are not useless.” She handed Deleh a linen towel
and bade her wipe her eyes. “I will tell you what I have seen, but you must
never speak of this, do you understand me? Never. This is
not
kitchen
gossip.”

“I swear by Tol’s head.”

“Oh, swear not by Tol. It is not that kind of matter. Nay,
swear that if you speak of this, you will have to plait my hair each time I
demand it—for a full conjunction.”

Deleh grimaced, but swore.

Ardra snatched up a pair of tongs and poked the coals in the
brazier so that she need not look at Deleh while she spoke.

“I opened Einalem’s door just now, and Ralen was with her.”

“Everyone knows Einalem services Ralen.”

“I believe I understand that now, but, Deleh, what I saw was
not mating.”

“No?”

Ardra poked the coals with great vigor. “Einalem was on her
knees before him and she was—”

“Feasting on his manhood?” Deleh asked.

“Deleh!”

“Ralen told Tol she was quite talented in the art.”

“Art?” Ardra dropped the tongs on the floor with a clatter.

“Ardra, sit.” Deleh pulled her to the bed couch and held her
hand. “Pleasing a lover is an art. There are so many ways to enjoy the
pleasures of the bed. I am disappointed that you do not understand this. Tol
and I thought you had surely taken at least one lover.”

“You may have lived among the Selaw for more than three conjunctions,
Deleh, but you know so little of our people. A Selaw woman may not take a
lover. The women of other chiefdoms might, but a Selaw woman will be cast on
the ice if she dishonors her mate.”

“You were far too beloved to be cast on the ice. You deprived
yourself for nothing.”

“And you must understand that there is a world beneath the
one which a man or woman from Tolemac can see. It is the miners’ world. The
women can be merciless if someone they respect is dishonored, and though Tol
was not one of them, they respected him as if he were.”

“So, you had no lovers.” Deleh patted Ardra’s hand. “Tol
would have been sad for you. He thought you and Ollach were close. The man is
so attentive to your needs.”

“Ollach!” Ardra screeched and clapped her hands over her
face. “Say no more!”

“I will say but one more thing. Take a lover, but be sure it
is not Lien.”

Ardra raised her head. “Why not Lien?”

“He is wanted by another.”

“Einalem?”

“Nay. ‘Tis Cidre I mean. The goddess wants him.”

Sickness rose in Ardra’s throat. “How can you tell? Einalem
watches him, so I thought—”

“Oh, aye, Einalem watches the pilgrim, but Cidre touched
him. On the lips and chest. She wants him, mark my words.”

Einalem opened her shutters to let in the fresh air. When
she turned around, Ralen had climbed from the bed. She watched him stretch. “I
want to be your lifemate, Ralen.”

“Nonsense. You would despise my life.” He dug in the bedding
for his breeches.

“Perhaps in the beginning, but I could grow to like it.” Why
was he not succumbing to her wishes? She had given him half the powder in the
vial and still he was aloof—nay, as cold as ever. What was wrong?

“I must see to my horses. They need exercise.”

She walked across the room, slowly, to be sure he could
admire her every move, her fine shape. She lifted her arms and piled her hair
on her head, then let it cascade down, something he loved to watch. “Forget
your horses.”

His eyes darkened. But not much. He was sated.

“Let me pleasure you again,” she said, stroking her hands up
and down his hips.

He slid from her grasp and pulled on his breeches. “This is
the last time I will seek your bed, Einalem, if you cannot accept one fact.”

“What is that?”

“I have no wish to lifemate. When I do—if I do—it will be a
chief’s daughter, not a councilor’s sister.”

“You insult me.”

“I am sorry.” He lifted her chin and stared into her eyes.
“You are lovely. You know how to please in bed, but I suspect my future will
not hold the fate you would choose for me.”

She could not stop her tears. “What fate is that?”

“A councilor’s seat. It is what you wish, is it not? To be a
councilor’s lifemate? To be so honored?”

He had a musky scent after lovemaking that she had been
unable to concoct in her herbarium. She had even bribed a bathhouse attendant
to collect the oils and sweat of his body for her. Still, the power he exuded
when aroused eluded her.

“You are the second warrior to disappoint me, Ralen.”

“I am sorry. Now, if you wish to have me in your bed, you
must forget this nonsense.”

“Answer one question for me.” She took up his tunic and held
it behind her back.

“I am finished with your questions. Give me my tunic.” He
held out his hand.

She danced away. “Nay. Not until you answer my question.”

But he would not play. He stood still and crossed his arms
over his chest. “I have other tunics.”

She hated him. “How will you feel when I give my favors to
another?”

“I will miss you, but I will not share you. Cidre has
indicated she is most willing to take your place.”

“Go to her, then. Lie with the goddess. May she curse your
manhood. Nay, may she curse your sword arm.”

In two steps he was upon her. He snatched her up and held
her off the floor. “Never say such words aloud, do you hear me? Not even in
jest. Call down the darkness on others if you wish, but curse me and I will
visit it tenfold on you another day.”

He dropped her and stormed from her chamber, slamming the
door behind him.

“Go, Ralen. I am done with you,” she called after him.

She paced, then flung his tunic to the floor. She tossed the
pillows from the bed and tore off the stained linens. Finally, her ire spent,
she went to her coffer. She tossed up the lid and pulled out the Vial of
Seduction.