5
SORCERESS
BEFORE ENTERING THE SOLARIUM, Varencienne paused at the threshold. She could hear the tones of cultured conversation, the occasional polite laugh. Men’s voices mumbled sonorously. Straightening her spine, Varencienne advanced into the room. Tatrini sat regally in a cane chair, her dark-gold robes spilling about her in tapestried folds. A high collar framed her sculpted face and her hair was piled high on her head, strewn with pearls. She did not look as if she’d been travelling, but as if she’d spent a restful night in a guest room of the castle and had spent several hours preparing herself before coming down to meet everybody. She had with her a single lady-in-waiting, who stood arrogantly behind her chair. Pharinet, clearly caught totally unawares, looked like a stablehand, her hair loose about her shoulders, her body swathed in close-fitting brushed leather. Valraven was, as usual, a gaunt dark presence. Merlan looked young beside him, but displayed no sense of awkwardness. Variencienne could only admire his sangfroid; only hours before he’d been making love passionately to her, yet now sat easily in her husband’s company. Everna was composed, issuing commands to servants. The children sat quietly and obediently on stools before their grandmother. The gathering looked entirely uncomfortable. The empress turned and saw her daughter. “Varencienne,” she said. “There you are.” Varencienne glided over to her mother’s seat and kissed lightly the proffered cheek. “Mother, this is a surprise. You should have warned us.” “I have been told that already,” the empress said, “but I have assured everyone that I did not seek to make an official imperial visit. We are family, and it should be informal. I wanted to surprise you to make sure of that.” Does she want me to behave as if we’ve always been close? Varencienne wondered, staring at this confident stranger. Out of the environment of the palace, Tatrini looked completely different. She had an animation that Varencienne had not seen before. “I have been at Norgance,” she said. “It’s a wonderful estate, a couple of hours’ ride from here. We have friends there.” “Yes, I have already made the acquaintance of this young man, here.” Clearly Tatrini had forgotten Merlan’s name. She indicated her grandchildren. “What lovely children you have. So well-behaved.” The children both looked at Varencienne, and she saw with a pang their expressions of uncertainty. She smiled at them, realizing in that moment she must be little more than a stranger to them. So it had been in her own childhood, with her own mother. “Yes, Valraven and I are very fortunate.” She could not go and muss their hair or hug them, because it would confuse them. They were not used to gestures like that from her. “Three years old. My, how time flies,” said the empress. “It seems only a few minutes ago when you were that age.” Varencienne smiled stiffly. “I feel as if I’ve lived here all my life.” The empress looked around herself. “It is a charming place. Very quaint. And the countryside is beautiful, of course. Your father and Bayard have always sung Caradore’s praises.” Varencienne winced and was sure that at least two other people in the room did so also. Was Tatrini ignorant of Bayard’s history with the Palindrakes or had her remark been intentionally discomforting? “How is Bayard?” Varencienne said. “I have not heard from him for some months.” “He is very well,” Tatrini replied. “Happily he is no longer stationed in Cos. Almorante is thinking of taking a wife. We despair of finding one for Gastern. He is so picky. Leo has earned a certificate at college. Everyone is doing fine.” A troop of servants came in bearing refreshments, supervised by Goldvane at his most officious. The kitchen staff had clearly worked hard to produce a spread fit for an empress, while at the same time making it appear that the Palindrakes must have late-afternoon snacks of this nature every day. Everyone sat down, obviously relieved to have the distraction of food. “If it will please you, we could arrange for some of the local families to visit,” Everna said. The empress raised a hand. “No, I absolutely forbid it. This time is for family. I wish to make your acquaintance.” Varencienne and Merlan exchanged a glance. Varencienne thought it quite extraordinary that she did not feel any guilt about her relationship with Merlan, even though Valraven was sitting nearby. She wondered whether anyone could perceive a difference about her, a special shine. Pharinet seemed so distant. She must have guessed. Where were the languid yet sharp comments that she’d usually utter? The Pharinet whom Varencienne thought she knew would not let that remark from the empress about family go unchallenged. “What has prompted this visit?” Varencienne asked, conscious of everyone’s eyes focussing upon her, even though she did not let her gaze stray from her mother’s face. “When I lived at home I never knew you to leave the palace.” The woman who looked back at her was indeed a stranger, who posed as an intimate. “My dear, I can assure you I had a life full of social engagements you never witnessed. It is true I should have come here before, but events have kept me at home.” She smiled at Valraven. “You have your husband to thank for this visit. It was he who persuaded me.” “I shall thank him in due course,” Varencienne said. “Would you care for another muffin?” The empress shook her head. Her eyes strayed to the white statue that grimaced out of the greenery behind Valraven’s chair. “What an unusual ornament,” she said. Valraven turned. “That is an ancestor of ours. Her name was Ilcretia.” “She looks as if she is about to pounce.” Tatrini laughed. “Right onto your neck, Lord Palindrake.”
PRESENTLY, A MAIDSERVANT CAME into the solarium to announce that the empress’s rooms were ready for her and that her luggage had been unpacked. ?I think I shall change,? said Tatrini. She fixed Pharinet with a stare. ?Perhaps you could show me the way.? Pharinet stood up awkwardly. “Of course.” They left the room, followed by the empress’s silent lady-in-waiting. “If that is what your mother wears for travelling, how does she dress herself for an official function?” said Merlan clearly attempting to crack the ice in the atmosphere. Varencienne smiled. “She is a singular creature.” She turned her attention to Valraven. “I have to admit I’m surprised you invited her here.” “Don’t be misled,” Valraven replied. “It was mainly her idea. I’m sure she wanted to see the children.” “They are three years old. She has taken a long time to make up her mind about this.” He shrugged. “Perhaps now she has the time.” Varencienne shook her head. “One thing my mother always seemed to have an abundance of was time. She never did anything except gossip and sew.” “Perhaps that is what she wanted you to see,” said Merlan. Valraven looked at him speculatively. Varencienne wondered if he was thinking about Merlan’s strong resemblance to his older brother. “That is true,” she said. “Still, before she leaves, I intend to find out what she wants.” She stood up. “And now is the time to start.”
VARENCIENNE WAS TEMPTED to enter her mother’s room without knocking, wishing to catch her unawares, but in the event felt unable to do so. She was surprised to discover that Pharinet was still present, sitting on a window seat, appearing strangely at ease while at the same time very uneasy. Tatrini herself was composed on a couch, still attired in her gilded gown and making no attempt to change it. “Mother, I would like to talk to you,” Varencienne said. Tatrini smothered her reaction, although Varencienne perceived it was there: a degree of surprise. “Well, of course we shall talk,” the empress said. “It is the main reason I am here.” Varencienne directed a glance at Pharinet. “Pharry, would you mind?” Pharinet hesitated, then stood up. “Not at all. I should go and make myself more presentable for an empress anyway.” Tatrini laughed. “You are as charming as Bayard told me you were.” Pharinet’s smile was hardly more than a grimace. She left the room. The empress’ lady also stole out discreetly, leaving mother and daughter alone. Varencienne had never been alone with Tatrini before. The last time they’d spoken at any length—and the longest conversation they’d ever had amounted only to a few sentences—had been on Varencienne’s wedding day. “Why are you here?” Varencienne asked. She did not feel frightened at all, only curious and suspicious. Tatrini settled back against the couch, one arm flung carelessly along its back. She appraised her daughter for a few moments before
speaking. “It was time I saw you. You are my only female child, and now you have children of your own.” “You had no interest in me before, none at all. I cannot help wondering what has changed that.” “You are wrong to say I wasn’t interested,” said the empress, peering at the sofa back where her hand plucked idly at a loose thread. She looked as if she was posing for a painting. “I am not the kind of person who abandons themselves to displays of affection. I do not say I am a good mother, but neither am I a bad one. I have thought about you, Varencienne, hidden away out here in a corner of the world. I liked receiving your letters. I was surprised to get them, but gratified nonetheless. Bayard talks of you often. He is curious about Caradore, of course.” “Of course. Considering what he did here.” Should she have said that? How much did the empress know? Merlan seemed to think she knew everything. Tatrini nodded distractedly, clearly not at all discomposed by her daughter’s remark. “He was an impulsive boy, but now he is older, and wiser.” “Why are you here?” Varencienne repeated, more grimly. “Do you seek to use me as a substitute for Bayard?” Tatrini studied her. “Is that what you think?” The question unnerved her. “I have yet to make up my mind. It’s why I’m here now, asking you about it.” Tatrini sighed. “You think you know everything, but life is more complex than you imagine. There is work for you here, I won’t deny that.” “Your work! I’ve done mine. I’ve produced Rav and Ellony.” “I like to think there’s more to your life than that, wonderful though your children are.” Varencienne bristled. “It was all you ever seemed to do, breed sons.” Tatrini expelled a dry laugh. “You have made so many assumptions, haven’t you?” “Then what did you do?” The empress breathed in through her nose. “We live in a man’s world, child, or perhaps I should say the men in this world believe it is theirs. But they perceive only half of what is there. They have their functions, as do we. Those of us who are clever play the game, for men believe they have written the rules. But in reality, it is we who command the moves. Some of us, at least.” “Did you choose my father as emperor, then?” Tatrini shook her head. “No, but his mother did.” “He was the eldest son. There was no choice involved. That is a man’s law.” Tatrini blinked slowly at her daughter, like a predator considering its maimed prey. “He was certainly not the eldest son. You had an uncle, who was sickly.” Varencienne digested this remark. Its poisonous implications spilled through her brain. “Bayard has three elder brothers, none of whom are sickly.” Tatrini continued to stare at her, perhaps wondering how much she should say to this female stranger. But no, she wouldn’t wonder that at all. “You have inherited my astuteness,” she said. “Do not look on me as an enemy, Varencienne. We are in fact allies. I know you love Bayard above all your other brothers. You want the best for him, as I do.” “Is it true, then? You want Bayard to inherit?” Tatrini sighed, averting her eyes once more. “Your father has been unwell. I do not think it is a serious concern, but he cannot shoulder the burden of power forever. We have to look to the future, to secure it for our own sons and daughters, and those who will rely upon them.” “What makes you think Bayard will be the best choice, other than your personal preference?” “I think it in everyone’s best interest that he assumes the role of emperor. Magravandias is a vast, unstable entity. It is held together by belief more than anything else. It is a human drive to want power, and so many are striving for it. The empire is very fragile. Might alone will not sustain it.” “Perhaps nothing can. Perhaps it is doomed to fall as every other empire has.” Tatrini narrowed her eyes. “This should concern you. Imagine what might come after. Some other power might covet Caradore, and then neither you nor your children will be safe. People need to think they are all striving for the same thing. This has nothing to do with war, which only creates division. Unity will come through the other eternal tool of control: religion. The ruling dynasty of Magravandias has always seen itself as the seat of divine kingship, with Madragore as its crown and the power behind the crown. But there are many kinds of divine kingship. People need to feel inspired, not repressed. Bayard can and will inspire people. His brothers are only dark smoke and the faintest gleam of smoldering embers. Bayard is the gilded one. He shines with the divine light.” “Tell that to the rebels of Cos.” Tatrini smiled. “The Cossics are proud. It is possible to control them, but not in any way that’s yet been attempted. Their king should be released from exile and brought to Magrast. He should be honored and married to a Magravandian. He should be given back his throne, and convinced of the benefits of alliance with our realm.” “Are you speaking of allowing Cos its independence?” “I’m speaking of manipulation. Men, especially kings, are ultimately vain. They see power in land and riches and feel secure once they have those things. I know differently, and so should you.” Varencienne sat down on the seat vacated by Pharinet. “What do you want of me, mother?” “When you came here, you felt inspiration. The land spoke to you, because it is in your blood. But now you’ve lost your faith. Not in the magic you so dearly wanted to believe in, but in yourself. You were shown something very important and misinterpreted it. Perhaps the path seemed too hard, and you thought you lacked the strength to climb it.” “How do you know what I’ve experienced and felt? Who is making assumptions now?” Tatrini laughed quietly. “Oh, I know, Varencienne. Be sure of that. It is important to have an efficient intelligence network.” “Who told you? Valraven?” Was it possible Pharinet had confided in him, told him everything? Surely not. The Caradorean women took great pains to keep Valraven excluded from the rites of the dragon. “Valraven knows very little, a fact of which you’re already aware. You must work it out for yourself, my dear.” “You still haven’t told me what you want.” Tatrini considered. “I want you to assume your rightful role, that’s all. The sea wife.” “You need Valraven, don’t you? What do you need him for if Bayard is your gilded king?” “When you came here,” Tatrini said patiently, “you rightfully believed the old magic of Caradore could be revived. You felt it stir inside you. You were right. Valraven must be reinstated as the Dragon Lord of this province.” “Why? What good will that do you, or Bayard? He and Valraven have become estranged.” Tatrini nodded. “I know. I will tell you what I want. I want to end war. It is wasteful and far from the true path to power.” “But how can you use Valraven?” Varencienne asked. “Casillin put a curse upon the Palindrakes. You know that. They cannot invoke the dragons. In fact, I strongly believe now that there are no dragons, only bitter memories.” “Oh, there are dragons, my dear,” said Tatrini. “They are the faces we put upon forces we cannot otherwise imagine.” She rustled upon her couch. “The spirit of Foy rots fretfully in her bower of slime. The women here sing songs to her and occasionally disturb her sleep, but they lack the power that Ilcretia and her kind had. Ilcretia made sure of that.” “The book,” said Varencienne. She frowned. “How did you acquire it?” “That is quite simple,” the empress replied. “It was given to Ilcretia’s daughter, Ahrenia, who married into your father’s family.” “Ilcretia sent the book to Magravandias.” Varencienne shook her head. “For safekeeping? She surely couldn’t have wanted us to have it.” “She was a very clever woman,” Tatrini said. “She knew that one day the tide would turn, and that it would most likely come from the part of her family that was closest to the heart of power. Ahrenia. As the women of Caradore have kept alive certain traditions, so have the women of your father’s family. The emperors generally marry cousins and so on. Leonid’s own mother instructed me in the matter, after she chose me for him as a bride. She had no daughters of her own.” “And this book contains the knowledge of power?” Tatrini shook her head. “Don’t be ridiculous. A book is a book.” She bunched her fist and tapped it against her chest. “This is where the knowledge resides. It passes from heart to heart, beyond language. With that book, which was a relic of the beliefs of these people, Ilcretia passed a torch to her daughter. It was just a symbol for a greater act. She knew Ahrenia was travelling into the land of fire, to the very core of it. If the dragon tide should ris
e again, it would be from there, not from the ragged shores of Caradore.” “Then perhaps Valraven should be emperor,” Varencienne said lightly, as if she’d just thought of it. Tatrini sneered. “No, that is not his function. He does not have the divine blood. He is what he is; a general. But he is a general fighting with one hand tied behind his back, and his eyes blindfolded. I want him restored, for us, for Bayard.” “What makes you think he would comply? I can think of a dozen reasons why he wouldn’t.” “That is your job,” said Tatrini. Varencienne laughed. “Mine? I don’t think so. Valraven and I are not close, mother. At best we have a polite, if distant friendship.” “The best kind of marriage, the least complicated,” said Tatrini. “He is just a boy at heart, Varencienne. He’s hurt and confused over what Bayard tried to do some time ago. He saw people die. He lost his wife and ultimately his friend, Khaster Leckery. Nobody ever really explained why this happened, so he blames himself. His hard exterior conceals a swamp of fear. Now, listen to me. The time for change has come. While I am here, we will give back to Valraven some of what was taken from him.” “Just tell him the truth, then,” Varencienne said. “And pray he doesn’t also rediscover a sense of national pride. Otherwise, you might have an uprising on your hands.” “With the majority of Caradorean men away in Cos? I hardly think so. No, Valraven won’t be so stupid. Anyway, a lot depends on how information is presented to him …” “And what is withheld,” said Varencienne. “Precisely. I shall offer a lure to him, which will be that he may be a king in his own land. The sons of Caradore will no longer be squandered on the battlefield. All I will ask is that he regards Bayard as his spiritual lord, that Caradore ally willingly with Magravandias, economically, politically and spiritually. In this way, we can create an empire beyond the most ambitious dreams of men. Think of it!? Varencienne pulled a scornful face. “And what of Gastern’s allies, the priesthood? Do you really think you can defeat them?” Tatrini recoiled a little, then spoke coldly. “They have the power of the fire-drakes, I know that. I share that power, but unlike the priesthood I lack strength in numbers. However, I intend to harness the power of the sea dragons, which will give me the advantage. The mages are my problem, you do not have to worry about them.” Variencienne sighed through her nose. “It will give me great pleasure not to. But there’s something else you should think about. Despite your noble aims, there are those in Caradore who will oppose what you wish to do. They want no truck with Magravandias, and dream only of Magrast and all her people perishing in flames.” Tatrini lifted a disdainful lip. “The women, with their little Sisterhood? That does not concern me. They are just Valraven’s potential handmaidens, his channels and his source to power. If any of them should actually behold Foy or her daughters with their own eyes, they would most likely expire in terror. They have no power, and are no threat to me.” “They believe their work to be so secret,” Varencienne said. “They wouldn’t even allow me into their ranks at first.” “I know. Foolish of them. Now they have lost out. You would have been an inspiration to them.” “Mother, just how do you know? Who is it who tells you things?” “The person you would least suspect.” She paused. “Incidentally, how did you know about Ilcretia’s book?” “From a source you would never expect,” said Varencienne. The empress smiled. “Good girl,” she said. “It seems I have less to teach you than I thought.” “What will you teach me, then? The contents of Ilcretia’s book?” Tatrini nodded. “You will learn that in time. It is only a history book. First, I need your complicity. Do you agree to work with me on this?” Varencienne shifted uncomfortably on her seat. “I don’t know. I need to think about it.” “There is no time. We must act at once.” “Act in what way?” “You have already begun the process unwittingly. Very soon, a select party will travel north to Old Caradore, the place where this drama began. There, in the presence of your husband, you will conjure the dragons. That is the strongest magic. Believe it.” Tatrini leaned forward in her seat. Her passionless mask appeared to have dropped. Varencienne could perceive her mother’s eagerness. “Tonight, you must persuade Valraven to take us to the old domain. He must lead us. Use whatever wiles you can. He will balk, because memories of the day he lost his first wife are still raw in his mind. His buried instincts will alert him to what is afoot. You must allay his fears, lull his anxieties. Be inventive.” “This is no small request,” Varencienne said, unable to imagine accomplishing such a thing. “Perhaps Pharinet is the woman for the job.” Tatrini shook her head. “No. The actions of our ritual have already begun and must proceed in a certain way. You are the sea wife. Your siren song must lure the dragon heir to the ancient altar.” “Who else will be part of it?” Tatrini laughed. “Everyone, my dear, everyone. But I shall compose our little party for the trip north. You need not concern yourself with that.” She sighed. “Now, I should like to rest myself. I have a lot of work to do tonight. I shall see you later, my dear. Think about what I have said, but never doubt you are part of this drama. It is your destiny. You cannot escape it.” Varencienne stood up. “You have waited a long time for this, haven’t you?” Tatrini smiled, an inward private smile. “We all have,” she said.