“Damn Berys anyway. Why could he not simply grant my request in full and save both you and me this concern? Only now do I learn that the articles he sent will do but half of what I need!” I could hear Marik glaring at this Caderan. “I must have them, Caderan, and they must serve me as I have said. There is a great deal of ground to cover, and I will need more time. When all is finished tonight, let you consider what you may do to enhance their virtue. I must be able to walk at least ten miles undetected.”
“Ten miles? My lord, you know not what you ask! Magister Berys sent me to serve you, but his own puissance could never do such a thing. How should I better his work? The boots he provided will serve you so far, in truth, but the others will not last more than half that time. Such puny assistance as I may render will take you only half again as far, and at that I will be near my limit.”
“Then I would recommend that you extend your limit if you intend to leave this place whole as you came,” growled Marik. The change in his voice was shocking. The music had gone sour, and in the discord was a heavy strain of menace. “I tell you I must have more time.”
Caderan’s own voice went hard in response. “My lord, I pray you, leave off this pretence. You hold my life in your hands—but the reverse is also true. Do not try to threaten a demon master. I am still alive because I refuse to listen to threats. It is the essence of my profession.” He checked himself and spoke again in a more appeasing tone. “Lord Marik, let us not quarrel. It is neither seemly nor profitable. I will strive for the measure of eight miles, my lord, and nothing you can say will force me to more. Can we not agree on that?”
“Agreed, then,” said Marik, his voice recovered. “At that I should have at least some idea of what I can bring out in safety. After the ritual I would ask you to complete the preparation of the other articles, and of the summoning for tomorrow, should it be required. Make certain all is your best work, for my life—indeed, all our lives—will depend upon it.”
“So it shall be, my lord,” said Caderan. “Do you still intend to speak to the winged ones first?”
“If I can. Why should I put myself in danger if I can win all by negotiation? I have my guards searching for the horse breeder, she can’t have gone far. I had hoped we might find her ourselves.”
“I told you she would be here, my lord, and there is but one path. We have not met her, therefore she is ahead of us and must return this way.”
“So you said. But I have seen no trace of her.”
“Only let us wait, my lord. She will come.”
Damn. No way out. But what did I have to do with his negotiations?
“You are certain she has spoken with them?”
Ah.
“Yes, my lord. So I have been informed.”
“Your informants are never wrong?”
I felt Caderan’s laugh shiver down my back. “You are pleased to jest, my lord. No, they are never wrong. I pay them well; they would not dare to be wrong. Even demons can die.”
I was barely breathing, keeping as still as I could, praying they would not come any farther. My fir trees suddenly seemed no protection at all. I did not fear Marik physically—I carried a dagger still, and felt certain I could at least hold him off. But I feared that demon master with all my soul. Oh, to be a Dragon—idiot! Tell them! Call them with truespeech and warn them!
If I had stopped to think I wouldn’t have done it—but I have never been accused of too much thought. I closed my eyes and concentrated.
“Akor? Akor, my brother? Eldest Shikrar, do you hear me? It is Lanen who calls.” I waited a moment in silence, repeated myself, still no answer. I didn’t know how to do what I needed to do, so I simply opened my mind as best I could and more or less yelled. “I send warning to the Greater Kindred. There is on this island a demon master, by name Caderan, who is in league with the Merchant Marik. They seek to negotiate with you. They plot some mischief, but I cannot tell what. If I should die, warn Lord Akor, I pray you. Be ‘ware!”
There was no reply. I had no way of knowing if I had been heard or not, and once I took a moment to think about it I blushed there in the trees and groaned silently. If Caderan could detect such things I was dead where I stood. And how many thousands of years had the Kindred been looking after themselves with no help from my worthy self? I realised I had called them simply out of my fear, my helplessness and my anger at Marik. I hoped Akor, if he heard me, would not be too angry. Perhaps no one had heard a thing, perhaps I had to be closer… .
Then a voice came in my mind. “You have been heard, Lanen Maransdatter. Shikrar speaks. We thank you for your warning. Are you in present danger?” His voice was dispassionate but kind. At least he didn’t sound angry.
I pondered the question, and found that the contact had relieved my fears. I concentrated and replied, “I’m not certain, but I don’t think so.”
“You have our gratitude. If danger threatens, do not fear to call upon us for such assistance as we may give. Farewell.” I breathed a small, noiseless sigh of relief. I hated to ask for help, but once offered I would not refuse it. I smiled to myself. Shikrar had a kinder heart than he admitted to.
Now all I had to worry about was outwaiting Marik here on this lonely path. He and Caderan were speaking quietly about the size of the Harvest and other small matters, and seemed prepared from their voices to wait until midnight if need be, when of a sudden Marik groaned.
“My lord?” said Caderan, his voice touched with just the light amount of concern.
“Unh. The lansip has worn off. Damn it to al the Hells, why now!” His silken voice was rough with pain, though I couldn’t imagine what from.
They say all knowledge comes to those who wait.
“Such conditions have no cure and few releases from suffering, my lord,” said Caderan, with what almost sounded like a trace of smugness. “When you win back the Farseer, and not before, the ceaseless pain that plagues you will end forever. So much Magister Berys told me. That which you made was invested with much of your own essence, and long parting must needs be painful.”
“You can stop preaching at me, sorcerer. I have lived with this for twenty-four years. There is nothing you can tell me about this pain that I have not long known.” A low moan escaped him. “I have sworn it, I will find that thief and recover what is mine or die trying. But not here.”
“My lord?”
“She may be coming but I won’t stand here in the cold waiting for her. She must return to the camp eventually”. Help me back along the path. I’ll send out my guards for her when I get back to my chambers.”
“As you wish, my lord,” smarmed Caderan, and I heard their voices dwindle in the distance. I waited the best part of half an hour before I emerged from the trees.
I tried to think straight, to consider what I might say to Marik when he caught up with me—for he would, no doubt, I had nowhere to run—but my mind would not stay still. I was far too frightened, and my mind would not keep on my own danger no matter how I tried to force it. Instead, I considered what I had heard. I assumed that “undetected” meant he was to cross the Boundary, but what did he seek? Dragon gold? Perhaps—but that was only a rumour, and surely with this harvest of lansip leaves, and now fruit, there was no need to face such extreme danger for such a mundane metal, rare and valuable ,as it was.
I thought about this, for I could not bear to think about what he might want with me, or how powerless I was to stop him.
Akhor
It was well done, I had to admit. If I had thought for a year I could not have come up with a more dramatic way to introduce her to the Kindred.
I had settled my thoughts and let the Discipline of Calm soothe my emotions. It was early afternoon when I began the summoning.
Calling the Kindred to Council is neither swift nor simple. The full Council meets once every five years at midsummer; summoning all of us together in the meantime is difficult and tends to meet with resistance. Sorme are busy raising younglings (though not in these
latter days); some have studies or travels of exploration that take their time; some of the Elders meditate for years on end and find the regular Council trouble enough.
I had convinced perhaps half of my people when Lanen’s call rang out like a youngling in distress. “Akor? Akor, my brother? Dear friend dear one hear me Eldest Shikrar, do you hear me? anyone listen hear me It is Lanen who calls fear fear danger.”
That alone would have convinced any who doubted she had truespeech, let alone what followed.
“I send warning to the Greater Kindred. I hope someone can hear me, hear me hear me danger! There is on this island a demon master, by name Caderan, voice of a Gedri boasting of his ties to the Rakshasa horrible man look like a weasel he’s proud of his corruption how sickening who is in League with the Merchant Marik. Damn him, fear danger sorrow loss fear vision of the tall fair-haired hawk-nosed Merchant who had appeared at the place of Summoning They seek to negotiate with you. He spoke of preparations and walking undetected eight miles that’s all Caderan could give him They plot some mischief, but I cannot tell what. Marik spoke of ‘what he could bring out in safety’ what does he seek I don’t know If I should die, warn Lord Akor, I pray you. great longing for Akor Danger to me now to you soon damn Marik Be ‘ware! danger beware beware!”
There was no mistaking the truth of that call, nor the fact that most of the Kindred heard it. It was not unknown anyone could bespeak us all if they didn’t care who heard. I instantly addressed my people in much the same manner, telling them that it was a special case, the subject of the Council meeting at the morrow’s dawn, and that most of the danger was in the mind of the youngling. Shikrar told me he had answered her from the guardpost and that she was well. I had to leave it at that, for I had too many others to attend to. She was frightened, certainly, but his response seemed to relieve her fears. She did not bespeak us again.
It took some time to sort out all the replies, but in the end it seemed that most of my people would be there. Even Kédra welcomed the call as a distraction from the coming of his youngling.
I would have to tell Lanen how successful her call had been. At sunset.
Lanen
I was stopped by Marik’s guards about half a mile from the camp. They escorted me—kindly enough, for the most part into the clearing where the cabins stood. Marik waited at the door to the largest. I walked up the few steps to the door with the guards right behind me.
Damn him, for all I knew about him he was still beautiful. His fair hair seemed to glow in the late-afternoon sun, his eyes grass-green and flecked with gold, his figure slim yet strong, making him appear far younger than he was. He spoke politely as he asked me to come in and sup with him. His voice showed no trace now of the pain I had heard earlier, and even though I knew he used his voice as a weapon I had to fight hard to stay angry.
No, Lanen, truth—I had to fight to keep from agreeing with everything he said.
I was thinking of so many things, I had forgotten the amulet he wore in Ilsa. They are, after all, designed to conceal their existence from those they affect.
“Good Lanen, come inside and be comfortable.” I went in and took off my cloak. The guards closed the door as they left. “I thank you for answering my summons,” said Marik. “I hope those great boors were reasonably polite.”
“They stopped me on my walk and told me I was commanded to appear before you. One threatened to bind my hands if I did not come quietly,” I replied, trying to sound more annoyed than frightened.
“Fools!” he cried. “I would never have ordered such a thing. Which was it, that I may punish him as he deserves?”
“It is of no matter, Marik.” I swallowed, trying to keep my voice steady. “Why did you want to see me?”
He smiled at me, as though we were privy to a shared secret. “Why, lady, I have just completed a morning’s work that will make the House of Marik one of the wealthiest of the Merchant Houses. I thought I might invite you to celebrate that good fortune. And perhaps after we sup, we might speak more of your mother.” He moved closer to me and dropped his voice to a register that melted my fear. “And perhaps speak more of ourselves. I would know you better, Lanen,” he said, and he took my hand and carried it to his lips, kissing the back of it as I had been told some men did. Then he turned it over and kissed my palm, gently, tenderly, passionately.
I shivered, sick and thrilled at once. The thought of this man, who might well be my father, kissing me passionately made my stomach heave—but another part of my being had other ideas. My mind had its own firm opinion of Marik as my possible father, as one with a dark soul who dealt with demons, but my traitor body ached with sudden longing. I had never known a man, nor ever truly loved; and I had certainly never been romanced before, twisted as this was. It was the last thing I would have expected from him and I was completely unprepared.
I swayed lightly on my feet, and suddenly I was in his arms and hi face was inches from mine. He even smelled wonderful, and infinitely desirable. His lips were on mine almost before I noticed. His kiss shuddered through me, jangling every nerve with desire flavoured with a taste of evil, of the deeply forbidden. It was irresistible. It was nauseating.
There was no more than a shred of my mind that held fast to reality. That small part cried out that it was nearly sun set, that one worthy of a genuine love waited for me, but my body had taken over and I didn’t care. I am afraid that I let go my better side and kissed him back with all my strength.
He seemed a little shaken. He drew back after a minute and stared at me, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. “So there is a fire within, my lady of the horses. You have built your walls high and well, Lanen, but I shall overcome them.” We kissed again. I felt stirrings I had not felt in years. I knew perfectly well that I should leave, but I could no more do that than fly.
Thank the Lady, the idiot moved too soon.
In the midst of a breathless pause (at least I was out of breath) while we clasped each other close, he murmured in my ear, “Lanen, lady, I know your secret, I know you have spoken with the Dragons, as I have. I pray you, sweet lady, tell me what you have learned, that we may be together in this as well.”
Nothing else could have shocked me out of his spell. I drew away a little. “What?” I asked, my mind fogged with passion. “What did you say?”
“The Dragons, dear one,” said Marik, with a glorious smile. He bent and kissed my throat, held me tighter against him, his hands strong and sensual against my back, murmuring, “I know you have been to them, you brave soul. Tell me, what did you speak of?”
My mind was clearing rapidly. I nearly drew away from him, but I managed to realise that I stood to gain more if I kept him believing that I was still helpless. It was not much of a pretence; I was still on the edge.
“Not a great deal, they wouldn’t listen to me.” I kissed him again, lightly, teasing. “What a thing to ask! Why do you want to know now, of all times!”
“Ah, sweeting, believe me, soon you won’t want to speak!” he said laughingly, caressing me.
“Then tell me, you wicked soul, what is it you seek from them?” I asked, trying to sound playful. The words were out of my mouth before I realised they were the wrong ones. This time it was Marik who drew back. He stared at me, his false passion turned in an instant to a cold-eyed suspicion. I tried to feign innocence and went to kiss him again to cover my confusion, but he broke from me. I met his gaze with as open an expression as I could, but he was well versed in lies as I was not.
His eyes narrowed in anger. “And who has told you that I seek anything from the Dragons?” I did not answer. He stepped close again, grabbing my right arm roughly in a grip stronger than I would have expected from him. “Answer me, fool child, or I’ll kill you despite all.”
Obviously he knew only two ways to use women, seduction or bullying. I can’t bear that kind of cowardice, and as I’ve said, I have a terrible temper. Always have. And all the nausea, the loathing I felt for him (and
which now included myself), poured through me and was transmuted into pure anger as I realised I was being threatened by the man who had just enticed me into releasing my passions.
Did I mention that I’m left-handed?
Just like my mother.
My first blow was not from my fist, since my knee was in a much better position, but the second one was. I had never struck with all my force as an adult—even with Walther I had pulled back a little. I have to admit it felt wonderful to see him drop. He hardly even groaned.
I decided it was time to leave. Fast.
I snatched up my cloak and looked frantically round for something, anything that could help me escape the guards outside. I peered through a crack in the door and saw them both waiting outside, so far unaware that anything had happened.
I grabbed up what looked like Marik’s sea chest and took firm hold, then called out. “Guards! Guards, help, your master is ill, come quickly!”
Well-trained idiots, at least. They burst into the room just as I had assumed they would. I timed my run and, I must say, it worked rather well. I barrelled into the one in front at full tilt, the sea chest held before me. He, of course, obligingly fell back onto his comrade with a grunt. I threw the sea chest at the head of the one on top just for good measure and he fell back, satisfyingly motionless and still on top of his comrade: I leapt over the tangle of bodies and ran for the trees and the Boundary as fast as I could go.
I got in among the trees in moments, heading northwest to avoid the camp and any awkward questions. I assumed that the guards would sort themselves out far too soon for my comfort. I ran with all my might.
I realised that the sun was just setting as I ran. I laughed aloud, once, for sheer relief that I had escaped alive, but I soon sobered (besides, laughing took too much breath). What did it matter that I was in time for my meeting? Blessed Lady, how could I face Akor after this? And what in all the world should I do afterwards?