Tyrant Trouble

CHAPTER 14

  When we couldn't carry Tarvik's weight any longer, we dropped him in a corner. Nance sank down on the rugs nearby.

  “Stargazer, what if the magician was wrong? What if it is not a simple potion?”

  “Do you think Ober meant to kill him?”

  “Worse than that. Perhaps she is a lifedrainer.”

  “Are lifedrainers worse than deathwalkers?”

  Sitting on the floor beside Tarvik, I picked up one of his hands and rubbed it briskly between mine, not that I knew what good that would do but it's something people are forever doing on TV shows. He had a gold ring on each finger, some of them decorated with small jewels. I studied the rings, partly to see the pretty designs and partly to have something to do besides add Nance's worries to my own.

  “They are monsters in the western mountains,” Nance said. “They have terrible magic that can destroy your mind and suck out your soul.”

  “Is that one of those bedtime stories nursemaids tell children to help them have happy dreams?”

  “Laugh at me if you wish, but everyone knows they reside there, which is why I can go to the plateau with my wings and not worry anyone will follow. The shepherds stay far from those hills.”

  “If you think lifedrainers are real, I’m surprised you go to the plateau.”

  Talking about monsters in the mountains kept Nance from fretting about Tarvik. He didn't show any signs of waking. I couldn't find the pulse at the side of his neck, so I slid my hand under his tunic again and across the hard muscles of his chest until I felt his heartbeat. Then I laced closed the front of his tunic and wrapped his soft cloak around him like a blanket.

  “How would I know? How would anyone know?” Nance shouted. “That's the whole thing! They can be invisible. They are said to have hairy bodies and leathery wings and they eat children, but when they come among us, some say they make themselves look like us.”

  I wasn't worried about lifedrainers, which were certainly no more than a story, but I was worried about Lor. He should have returned by now. Leaving Nance to watch Tarvik, I went to the stable to look for him.

  The sun, not yet above the horizon, cast a long glow in the eastern sky. The stars faded. In the chill air I could feel the warmth of the horses. They made soft sounds. Did Lor feed and water them at daybreak? If so, where was he? Did he lie injured or dying in some seldom-traveled place? I would have guessed him far stronger than the magician, but the magician had his tricks.

  The horses reached out their noses to me, obviously expecting something. I could force myself to face a magician alone, but I could not force my hand to reach past those enormous teeth to stroke a horse, no matter how gentle the dark eyes. I saw Black and Pacer, and at the far end of the row gleaming white in the morning light was Tarvik's horse, Banner.

  Peering from the doorway I saw a temple guard stop by the far wall, his back to me, and do a slow cat stretch, his arms above his head, to get the kinks out of his spine. I knew exactly how he felt.

  If I stepped from the stable door into the early light my shadow would touch him.

  Slowly I edged my face around the doorway and watched him walk away.

  “Hssst.”

  The whispered warning set me shaking. I spun to see Lor slip past me into the stable, leading the horse. There was nothing on its back now.

  “Why are you here?”

  “Where were you? The sun is up.”

  “Hmmph,” he grunted and moved around the stable forking feed into the troughs.

  “I was afraid that magician might have harmed you.”

  The white eyebrows drew together. “Harmed me?”

  “I thought you'd be back before now.”

  “Had a hole to dig.”

  Right, didn't want to know any more about that. “The magician, where is he?”

  “Gone.”

  Although he spoke briefly to me, he murmured long speeches to his horses as he rubbed their sides and thrust his hands behind their ears to scratch them. He treated them like puppy dogs.

  “Could he be caught again?”

  “He's safe enough if he follows where I pointed him,” Lor said, then added, “You're not.”

  I let out my breath in a puff of agitation, knowing he wasn't going to answer my questions. Worse, he was right. Soon the guards would come looking for Tarvik and somebody would stop by the stable. I ducked back through the temple door and closed the stone.

  When I told Nance that Lor was back, she cried, “So the magician and his magic are gone and Tarvik still lies beyond our reach. We have let that horrible man trick us.”

  “Oh lord, I hope not.”

  “When will he wake?” Nance sobbed, flinging her arms around me, stretching up to press her tearful face against mine. “Tell me that, Stargazer! Draw your magic circle and tell me what it holds for Tarvik!”

  “You're getting me wet with your crying. Do be still. Let me think.”

  “You think too much! He could be dying, even as you talk.”

  To keep us both busy, I dipped a cloth in a bowl of water and told Nance to do the same. We wiped perspiration from Tarvik's face. Was this feverish flush better than the lifeless cold of earlier? The magician had closed Tarvik's eyes.

  “He looks like he's sleeping,” I said.

  “What sort of sleep is that, that cannot be broken? Soon his guards will search for him. Shall I tell them he lies here, his mind stolen by some evil spell?”

  “If they come here, I'll go to the gates and tell them you are busy praying. You don't need to speak to them. Ober can suspect whatever she wants but she cannot take over the city in a day.”

  “Not without her deathwalker.”

  “Yeah, there's that. Didn't figure on the deathwalker showing up.”

  “Nor did you think Ober would poison Tarvik so soon,” Nance grumbled. “Tarvik had better wake today from his lazy dreaming or he will have no reason to wake. He will find himself no more than a slave in his own lands.”

  Now that his skin was warm and he breathed evenly, she stopped worrying and started fussing. I left her to tend him. She brushed back his hair and washed his face and smoothed his tunic with constant nervous strokes. If that didn't wake him, what would?

  Rather than listen to her complain, I combed my hair back into a ponytail, and tied a rolled scarf around my head so it covered my forehead. My aching bod wanted to collapse on the sheepskins but instead I got out my temple gear.

  So there I was, face painted, robe dragging, when the guards began banging on the gate. I slid past Nance. Whether her wide-eyed shock was at the noise or at my appearance, I did not stop to ask.

  Crossing the courtyard, I called through the gate, “Who is there?”

  “Your guards, keeper of the temple. The lady Ober has sent her guards to request you go to her now.”

  Right, sure, I was going to march into the lion's mouth. “That cannot be done. My orders must be from the prince.”

  “My lady, the prince - the prince cannot be found. And the magician of Thunder has escaped from his cell.”

  From the hesitation in his voice, I knew the guard spoke carefully, hoping to warn me about the situation at the castle without saying anything that would create suspicion in Ober's men.

  “We must pray to the Daughter for the answer to such strange occurrences,” I called. I got better everyday at imitating Nance's fancy phrases. “The ladies Ober and Alakar may enter the temple at midday if they wish to join our prayers.”

  And if Tarvik is still asleep at midday, we will have some long praying to do, I thought to myself.

  “My lady Ober commands to see you now,” demanded a another voice.

  That gave me no choice. I had to play my role with all the display Nance usually tossed into the act. Throwing open the gate, I found myself staring at four of Ober's men.

  Nothing to do but wing it.

  Standing in the entry in the long shadows and bright sun streaks of early morning, I raised my arms so my
bracelets and rings flashed reflected light. The temple guards stepped back, their eyes lowered. Ober's men remained unmoving.

  I chanted, “Even now the Daughter of the Sun seeks the council of her father. To disturb the prayers of her priests would be to break the golden thread that binds the temple to the Daughter's heart. Leave us and we shall put aside all other concerns to pray for the protection and swift return of her servant, Tarvik.”

  From the corner of my gaze I watched Ober's guards. Raised as they had been, beyond the temple's reach, they might doubt me, but I was pretty sure they were all terrified of Kovat and would hesitate to force entry to his temple.

  Without waiting to give them any chance to make a bad decision, I closed the gate and slipped the bolt into place. Nance's temple guards would remain loyal, but I did not know how long they could hold off the larger number of Ober's men. Back home, my avoidance of run-ins with authority consisted mainly of driving within the speed limit. Not much preparation.

  Oh, right, I had some skill at dodging bad boys. Those creeps probably qualified as bad boys.

  I hurried back inside.

  “Midday, indeed,” Nance said, giving Tarvik a sharp slap. “He may well sleep past midday of tomorrow or the day beyond that.”

  “You had better think of long, convincing chants.”

  “I know enough chants to bore Ober through six settings of the sun, but will she wait?”

  “Could we make the ritual more impressive than usual? Something so unusual that people would be, oh, I'm not sure what I mean, but I think we need something magical.”

  “We could start by dressing your hair properly.”

  “Nance, you're not listening.”

  “I understand what you say and it frightens me. You bend and use the rituals of the temple to gain your own wishes, with no thought that you might anger the Daughter and bring lightning bolts upon us all.”

  “Is that something you ever saw the Daughter use?” I asked, wondering where the average hiker learned that skill.

  Nance shouted, “How would I know! I have never used the temple for anything other than devotion. Now, with you here, it has become a place to receive messages through weird star circles. Also, my private rooms, forbidden to all but templekeepers, have been entered by a wicked magician of Thunder. And, now it seems, I have as a permanent guest my wretched cousin.”

  “You could always hand him over to Ober's guards. If, of course, you don't ever want to see him again.”

  Nance threw up her hands and made a gasping noise.

  I waited.

  Her beliefs weren't mine. She had to settle in her own mind how far out of bounds she was willing to go. There were purposes for which I would not use my knowledge of astrology, such as advising Kovat on slaughtering innocent people, or helping a couple of felon wannabes back home, so I knew how Nance felt. She had to make her own choice about the use of the temple.

  She came to a decision. “We cannot use the high rituals of the sacred days but we can wear the best robes and lengthen the chants.”

  We arranged Tarvik in a comfortable position on the rugs, folding a sheepskin to pillow his head and covering him with another blanket, then left him.

  As Nance tore at my hair and hung robes on me that nearly equaled my own weight, my fear for Tarvik turned to envy. I'd trade places any time. He could chant. I could nap.

  By midday we both resembled altar decorations more than people. The robes Nance chose were so covered with jewels and gold threads, the cloth could barely be seen beneath the ornaments. They were so heavy, I feared I would stumble and end up sprawled on the altar. My hair was an itching nest of glitter.

  Nance had tied a band of silk over my bruised forehead, then arranged a chain to dangle a heavy gold ornament between my eyes. Occasionally, when I moved my head, it caught and reflected light and I found myself cross-eyed from watching it. Nance added paint on paint until my face in the mirror looked more like the picture above the altar than the Daughter herself could have done.

  Before entering the temple's main room, we had one last attempt at waking Tarvik. I patted his face and called his name softly and rubbed his hands. Nance didn’t bother to limit her effort.

  She stood above him and poured a flask of water on his face.

  “Nance! Stop! That serves no purpose. Oh. Wait. Did his eyelids move?”

  “Tarvik, wake up, you useless lump,” she scolded, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him so hard his head snapped back and forth.

  “Don't, you'll hurt him.”

  “Tarvik, you must wake up,” she wailed. “Please, Tarvik, do hear me, wherever you are!”

  For a moment I thought I saw the muscles in his jaw tighten, but then his head drooped. I pried away Nance's clawing hands and lowered him back into the blankets.

  “No use doing any more. All you'll do is bruise him. His mind is going to stay asleep until the drug wears off and there is nothing more we can do. Come on, we must so impress these people they don't dare think of searching the temple beyond the altar room.”

  Ober, Alakar, and a small following of servants and guards entered the temple at our choice of time and at our command. Score one for us.

  While I murmured memorized chants, my mind worried away at other ideas. If Ober feared the powers of the Daughter, she would never have plotted against Tarvik. Therefore, she must fear I had unknown powers. Perhaps she also feared Kovat would return suddenly. Because she knew he had stopped at the temple to speak to me, she must be frantic to learn his plans.

  On the chance that she suspected I possessed a magic greater than her own supply of trickery, I needed to do what I could to keep her believing this.

  My grandmother, may her soul rest in peace, knew odd bits of magic. Among other things, she could open her fist, turn it palm up, and she appeared to be holding a small ball of fire. Very impressive for about thirty seconds. She tried to teach the trick to me but I never mastered it so I don't think it was a magician's trick, I think it was real magic. Like so many of the residents of Mudflat, my grandmother had touches of real magic, the kind that's inherited, not learned. Unfortunately, I hadn't inherited that fire-in-hand bit. It would have impressed Ober, I bet.

  While I stood motionless and tried to look magical, whatever that looks like, Nance chanted endlessly, breaking into the ritual words with occasional reassurances.

  “The Daughter has removed from our beloved city the evil presence of the magician of Thunder as easily as she once removed from our beloved ruler the evil presence of fever,” she murmured.

  Alakar and Ober glanced at each other. Facing them, I could see their doubts.

  When Nance paused, Ober said, “And what, oh priest of the Daughter, has become of the ruler's son? Has the Daughter removed him also?”

  “Those whom the Daughter loves will remain ever in her protection,” Nance chanted, and it pleased me to hear her. I had suffered through enough of her lessons. This time it was Nance who had memorized what I told her to say.

  “Where is Tarvik?” Ober demanded.

  “As she moves the clouds and frees the sun, so has the Daughter moved the prince closer to herself so she may even now heal him of some evil spell visited upon him. As she saved his father, so does she now save the son. When he has absorbed the power of her healing, he will again be made visible to his devoted people. Let us together thank the Daughter for her ever watchful care of our beloved son of Kovat.”

  When Nance said some evil had been directed at Tarvik, Ober did that paler shade of white thing. She must have figured that if we knew Tarvik had been poisoned, we might also know the poisoner. I kept my face blank.

  Nance began a chant that was going to last well past my ability to stand silently. Not bound to do so, I turned and circled the altar, swinging my arms and a lamp in empty gestures allowing me to move and stretch inside the weight of my robe. I hoped Ober, too, had passed a sleepless night and would soon decide to return to the comforts of her room.
r />   As I turned from the altar, I faced the archway entrance from the temple to Nance's rooms. The others stood with their backs to the opening, facing the altar. I bit my lip to hold back a cry of surprise.

  In the shadows, unnoticed by any of them, stood Tarvik. He stood with his feet apart, his hips forward and his shoulders back, in that slightly slouched stance I had seen when he faced an opponent on the day of the games, just before he drew his sword, lunged forward, and attacked. Lucky for somebody that his sword was back in his room, hanging on the wall. I would have raised a finger to my lips to warn him, but then I saw I didn't need to.

  His face was hard, his mouth tight with anger, his eyes narrowed. He aimed all his fury in his glare, staring through the temple gloom at the soft glow of red-gold hair that framed the pale face of Alakar.