Talion Revenant

  His Excellency smiled fully and looked over at Lord Eric. The Lancer Lord remained puzzled, but he said nothing. His Excellency again addressed me. "Congratulations on holding the goblet correctly and how you sliced the apple."

  I frowned. My family might have been tied to a farm on an overworked plot of land, but we'd been brought up correctly and knew how to act in polite company. My mother was a merchant's daughter and occasionally, on high holy days before sunfever killed my grandfather, we traveled to his home for feasting. My father's mother always coached us in manners so we'd not be an embarrassment on such occasions. She wanted to give my mother's relatives no reason to believe their money could possibly make them better than us.

  I reached for the wine again and caught the cheese's scent. I sliced a sliver of it off the wedge and gingerly laid it on my tongue. I almost spat it out. "Please, don't tell me this is still popular at court!" The Hamisian monarch enjoyed cheese laden with a half-dozen spices, all masked by an overabundance of garlic, and I hated it. My mother once made some for market and from the first I'd wanted nothing to do with it.

  His Excellency shifted in his chair and, with a hand motion, encouraged me to take a larger slice. "You'd best get used to it because it is as popular as ever in the capital, Seir."

  I cut and chewed a larger slice. I followed it quickly with a piece of apple and some wine. That washed most of the taste from my mouth.

  His Excellency glanced at the Master and curtly nodded his head. The Master smiled and spoke to Lord Eric. "You see, Lord Eric, Nolan's actions merely confirm his selection as our agent. He grew up in the area and without a second thought performs tasks as only a native could. Take the apple as an example. In Imperiana you might cut it into eighths without peeling or coring it. Such a simple action would mark you as an outsider no matter how carefully you studied the background we have created for you."

  The Lancer Lord frowned. "We should be able to impart that sort of training to any Talion we send off to play a role."

  The Master narrowed his eyes and, for the first time, I saw displeasure crease his brow. "You know that training is given to others, when time allows, which it does not in this case. Still, a native accent or experience is invaluable, and worth more than years of training."

  I looked up toward His Excellency expectantly. I had no place interrupting, so I would say nothing, but I did not like the situation developing here. I hoped His Excellency would take the opportunity I was giving him and break in.

  He did. "You have a question, Nolan?"

  Lord Eric spitted me with a harsh stare—warning me off commenting on or addition to his dialogue with the Master—so I addressed myself to His Excellency. "From the historical reading I was given earlier, I assume you believe King Tirrell will be slain sometime after his daughter's coronation. At that point the King's uncle would be made regent until she was married, at which time her husband would be installed as a Prince and would be given command of Hamis's armies."

  The tension between Lord Eric and the Master slowly evaporated, and His Excellency, with jowls bouncing fluidly, nodded agreement with my assessment. "Even as we speak King Tirrell is out hunting a mountain leopard. Princess Zaria, during her Dreamvigil, saw one in a dream. Once the King gets it the coronation will take place. All the nobles from the area are gathering at Castel Seir. The ceremony should take place by the end of the month, but we intend to have you there before the hunt is complete."

  He pointed to a folded and sealed piece of foolscap tucked halfway beneath the tray of fruit. I withdrew it, broke the seal, and studied the crabbed writing on it. I realized Lord Eric was watching me closely, and had a puzzled look on his face, so I paraphrased the contents aloud. "I am Lord Nolan ra Yotan ra Hamis, but I do not use the 'ra Hamis' for reasons of family pride. I am the illegitimate brother of Count Evin ra Yotan. He learned of me in his father's diary, sought me out, and accepted me. My mother is dead, but little of her is known and the less said the better."

  His Excellency frowned at my addition to the text, so he spoke the rest from memory. "Your family makes wine. Count Evin cannot attend the coronation because it is time to harvest his grapes. It is inconvenient for him to travel. He has sent you to represent him and his family at the affair. A shipment of wine has already been sent in your name."

  I nodded—he'd not missed a word. "Isn't letting a Lord of Sinjaria know a Talion will be coming to protect the King a bit risky? I would have thought Sinjarian nobles would be strong candidates in the list of those who engineered this plot against him."

  His Excellency looked up at me. "The Sinjarian lords, in general, are, but Count Evin has managed to deal with them and the Hamisians by remaining neutral. He sent us a message suggesting the coronation might be a critical time for any sort of action against King Tirrell, and this was a week before the 'incident,' so we believe him free of involvement."

  His Excellency then narrowed his eyes and answered the question I'd dared not voice. "We did not coerce him, Nolan. We do a great deal of business with him and buy much of his produce. He was more than pleased to help. He wants nothing more than peace. While he resents Hamisian domination, he does relish the years of peace and prosperity since the war's end."

  I blushed and looked down. "I meant no disrespect."

  The Master stood, stepped from the throne, and walked over to get a piece of apple. "No offense taken, Nolan. Your suspicion of Count Evin was certainly cautious, and that is to be lauded. Still, you must not think everything His Excellency does stands on a foundation of blackmail. There are many people, like Count Evin, or even King Tirrell, who agree to work with us because they appreciate what we represent."

  His Excellency continued once the Master returned to the dragonthrone. "You will fly from here to the valley between Twin Mountains. In the western end of the valley you'll find a mount waiting. If the mountain leopard has been taken before you get there, you will have to ride and join the King as soon as possible. The hunt's progress should be slow enough to allow for that easily enough.

  "Only the King knows we are sending a Talion to protect him. No one else should know your identity. All the Lords of Sinjaria are suspect, as are many of their Hamisian counterparts. The Rimahasti are backing the Sinjarians with money and have offered to make troops available because they fear King Tirrell wants to add Rimah to his realm."

  I ate another piece of apple and nibbled, reluctantly, at a slice of cheese. "What about Janian nobles and Duke Vidor?"

  His Excellency ignored Lord Eric's reproving glance at me. "The Janian delegation is made up of nobles you have never met. You cannot trust them with your identity, because of the interdiction, of course, but they have no part of this." He hesitated and focused his gaze on the ceiling. "Duke Vidor is something else again."

  I shook my head. "I do not understand. He should be, ah, twenty-six years old now. He signed a treaty of peace with King Tirrell after his father and brother died during the siege of Jolis. Jolis was razed, so the 'capital' of Sinjaria moved to Seir and Vidor was made Duke of the Sinjarian duchy. He was fifteen then and has lived at court since. He's supported King Tirrell in all things."

  "The problem, Nolan, is that different people tell different stories about Duke Vidor. He's traveled widely in the area and really shows no interest in politics at all, yet he seems friendly with all the factions at court." The Services Lord held both his hands out palm up. "On one hand he is nothing more than a captive jester at court." His left hand sank slightly. "On the other, he is the man all factions believe will marry the Princess and gain the army. The factions seek to control him for that reason."

  He rotated his right hand so it sank, then turned it to face me and show the death's-head we shared. "You cannot trust him with your identity because he might let it slip without realizing what he has said. I think it would be best if you told no one but the King who you are."

  Lord Eric cleared his throat. "What of Captain Herman? Shouldn't he be told?"

  The Ma
ster shook his head. "He will be notified a Talion is coming to replace the one slain, but I want no chance remarks that might expose our deception. Nolan can reveal himself when he thinks it appropriate. We don't want the two of them to be talking over fond memories of Taliana and have Nolan be discovered. I will send the message to Captain Herman with tonight's Elite flight to the east."

  That did not please Lord Eric, but he said nothing.

  His anger, and my recollection of comments from that morning, made me hesitate in asking my next question because I knew it would provoke a reaction from him. "Do I have leave to slay the nobles behind the plan?"

  His Excellency nodded, but before he could add any sort of caution or caveat, Lord Eric shot from his chair. "How can you even ask for such permission? You can't just give him leave to kill off nobles."

  The Master turned. "Even if a noble ordered the death of a Talion?"

  Lord Eric's open mouth snapped shut and he lowered himself into his seat. More calmly he protested, "We do not know her death was ordered. She might have met the nekkeht in combat when she did not expect it and was thus slain."

  "It matters not." His Excellency heaved himself to his feet. "King Tirrell's death would bring instability to that area. There is no clear, strong candidate to replace him and I will not have civil wars ravaging the Sea States because you feel a noble's blood is more precious than that which runs in peasant veins. The death of a noble has no significance."

  "Tell that to the ruling family in Jania." Lord Eric rose and stalked angrily from the chamber. The doors opened before him and he just avoided a collision with a Wizard who jumped to the side. The Wizard recovered himself, bowed, and waited in the doorway.

  The Master rose and beckoned me to join him. "Lady Cosima is ready for us, Nolan. It is time for you to create a nekkeht!"

  * * *

  Our guide, whose name was Catalin, was just a bit smaller than me, both in height and build. He wore his black robe with the hood pulled up, so I could see only the tip of his nose and his mouth. I spotted one hair on his robe—it was short and blond—but I had no real way to even guess what he really looked like.

  Silently he led us through dark, narrow corridors that twisted back and forth. I let my fingers brush against the walls, and discovered them to be solid, but the rough blocks my eyes saw contrasted wildly with the smooth, curved surfaces my fingers felt. Goose bumps rose on my arms and along my spine. Magick: I did not like it at all.

  Finally we passed through a doorway so dark I thought it curtained, but I felt nothing as I stepped through it into a room white enough to momentarily blind me. I raised a hand to shade my eyes, and saw the Master had done the same. Across the room Lady Cosima bowed her head, and I caught a grin on Catalin's lips.

  The Master shook his head. "You do not need parlor tricks to impress me, Cosima."

  Her nostrils flared and something flashed through her eyes. It leached the color from them and for a moment her eyes became solidly pearl gray; then they returned to normal. "I sought not your attention, Master. Nolan needs the impressing. Approve of this, I do not, but that discussion we have played like an old duet many times, you and I."

  The Master shook his head and looked old.

  Her Call made each word strike physically and ripple through my chest. I bowed my head. "I am impressed, and I am as reluctant to learn as you are to teach."

  "Learn you will, Justice, and well you will learn." She waved me to a table three feet wide and three times that length. The surface—unpolished white marble with some wisps of gray shot through it—had bolts sunk in the side every six inches to which straps could be fastened. An inch in from each edge, a shallow blood groove rimmed the table and led to a hole in one corner, beneath which hung a bronze catch basin.

  I looked up and started. Catalin was rummaging around in a cabinet built into the wall opposite the door. He had the doors open and searched for something amid the orderly arrangement of alembics and cups.

  This was not remarkable, except in that the cabinet had not existed when I walked into the room!

  Finally success rewarded his search. Catalin selected a small cup, barely larger than a thimble, and placed it on the table. Though he took no care in how he handled it, it arrived at the table full of water. I looked up at him and received another shock. As he closed the cabinet, all traces of it vanished.

  Lady Cosima watched me, then blinked once, slowly. "Dismissed you are, Catalin. Appreciated your aid was." She waited until the Wizard had departed before she continued. "Nolan, what you will be taught is taught over my objections. Understand you must that this magic being handed to you is much like giving a child a vial of poison. Do not imagine that because you can perform this ritual magic, you could control great forces or can defeat great magicks."

  Her hand darted out and grabbed my right wrist. She drew my hand forward and twisted it so the tattoo showed. "You have not the training or blood for sorcery. This alone makes you capable of this magic." She let my hand drop and stared me in the eyes. "If not for that you would be blind in the world of magic."

  As she said that, just for a sliver of time, the white walls dissolved and I saw the room as it must truly be. A vast black void surrounded us, and while there was no light, I detected black shapes within the darkness that moved with purpose and intent. Lady Cosima's form was sharper here, and full of more color and substance than before. Here she was home.

  The white walls exploded back like a lightning flash at midnight and I staggered because of the dislocation. I shook my head to clear it and caught the Wizard watching me closely. "What do you know, justice?" she demanded of me.

  Her Call made an answer imperative, but I had no conscious choice over the words I spoke to her. "I know, I know nothing." The words came from deep within, from an ancient memory. I saw my grandmother, but she faded faster than the void had. This confused me, and I did nothing to exclude that fact from the expression on my face.

  That thing flashed through Lady Cosima's eyes again, then was gone. "You are correct, Nolan, you know nothing." A hint of a smile writhed across her lips. "But you will learn."

  Lady Cosima turned away from the table, then turned back and laid a gray rat on the table. His wet fur looked clean. It was also very apparent that he was dead, because his neck was badly misshapen. "Since this is only a demonstration, and because none of us could answer your questions while Sharul, we will not withdraw the soul from a creature, but we will use one that is already dead."

  The Wizard took the rat up in her bony hands and straightened his neck, as if setting a broken bone. She muttered some words, in a low voice I could not understand, and then set the rat back down again. His neck stayed straight. "He was killed in Taltown this morning by a trap, but the damage was simple to mend." As if the rat merely slept, she patted the body gently.

  "Nolan, please follow me." She moved off to my left and into a narrow, white corridor I'd not seen before. I did not reach out and touch those walls, though, because after what I'd seen for that one second, if the walls really were not there, I did not want to know. Still I did notice a light blue hue creeping into the walls as we walked.

  Lady Cosima paused before a flickering display of rainbow lights on a panel set in the wall. It was only two feet square, and color played across it the way light dances off water and cavorts on the side of a ship or beneath a bridge. The lights twisted and shimmered like sparks racing up from a campfire to join stars in the sky above. They were all different colors and hues, but most were faded and some were bright, pure white. Immediately I knew the white lights were rhasa souls.

  "Bare your right arm to the elbow."

  The armor made Lady Cosima's order difficult to comply with. I twisted within my leather and bared the whole right side of my body.

  Lady Cosima turned to the panel and stared at the lights. "Guessed it you have, the lights are souls. I know not what determines their colors, but the white ones are rhasa. The panel here holds them back, but you may
insert your hand through it. Beware, the souls will settle on your flesh like mosquitoes in the summer. Those with strong color are most recently taken and they hunger for flesh. Hurt you they cannot really. Finally a rhasa soul will light on your palm. Draw it in as you would if you were taking it from a criminal."

  I wiped the sweat from my palm off on my trouser leg and slowly raised my hand to the panel. I felt nothing, really, except pressure that yielded easily enough as my hand advanced. Once it was through the panel I felt a chill seep into my arm and suddenly, from elbow to fingertips, my arm was as cold as the tattoo.

  Immediately a scarlet soul wrapped itself around my forearm like a viper. It's touch stung like the bite of an ant and I tensed. I shook my fist and flung the soul off easily enough, but it left an uncomfortable tingling in my arm. Then, as if the thought had to work its way out through the panel before I could think it, recognition came to me. That had been Tafano's horse!

  More timidly, other colorful souls approached. Several soared past my arm, very close, to brush it with a sensation that tickled. They were very pale and it seemed as if part of them wanted to remember why they'd once held flesh so dear. Slowly I got faint impressions of who or what they had been, but most of the memories came from early life so I had no good way to identify them.

  Lady Cosima must have read the wonder on my face. "The souls with color have not fully lost their identities yet. Imagine, though, the madness that would result if you had several souls like that chattering and remembering within your mind!"

  I slowly nodded my head, then shook my hand again to scatter the tinted souls. They swirled away like plumes of smoke in a gentle breeze. In their wake came a searingly white rhasa soul. It landed on my hand like a butterfly descending on a flower. I pulled it in effortlessly, then withdrew my hand from the panel.

  Lady Cosima smiled because I held my hand as if it bore a terribly fragile egg. Without a word she swept past me and led me back to the first room. I forced my hand to relax and slipped half my armor back on my shoulder without putting my arm through the sleeve.