Agnith's Promise: The Vildecaz Talents, Book 3 (14 page)

“But it wasn’t enough to reveal who killed him,” said Zhanf, feeling the weight of his failure.

“That only goes to show that his killer is powerful, a magician to be reckoned with, which we would do well to keep in mind,” said Merinex stubbornly while accentuating his words with a gesture of high regard. “We face a most formidable opponent, do we not? If the magical works were enlisted in our cause, think what might be done. As it is, we must bear in mind that the magician we’re facing is as formidable as a company of cavalry with enchanted bows and swords.” He sighed. “What more can you or I do to discover him – without alerting him to our efforts and giving him time to secure a more impenetrable disguise? We must assume he will expect us to try to search him out.”

“I don’t know. That’s what I’m hoping to find in these books. It’s clear that Duz Nimuar consulted them, and fairly recently.” He gestured to the three stacks nearest to him. “I know all the usual ways to undo deceptive spells and magical barriers, but there are things that are unique to Vildecaz that I have to deal with before I can find out how Hoftstan Ruch was killed, and by whom.”

There was a short silence, and then Merinex said, “I’d offer to help, but I fear what you’re doing is beyond my talents.” He laughed in self-deprecation. “Your abilities far outshine mine, Magsto.”

Zhanf shrugged. “Everyone’s talent is unique.” He looked over toward Pareo, expecting some comment from the Imperial Secretary. He wasn’t disappointed.

“That is the traditional wisdom,” said Pareo.

Resisting the urge to take umbrage at this, Zhanf went on, “So, Merinex, what do you recommend in regard to the spell-mummy?”

“For now it’s in the shed by the goats’ pen. It can’t do much harm from there, I would guess. You may want to see it later, and add your own protections to it. It’s not as if we can just roll it down the slope and into the river.”

“That would be ill-advised,” said Zhanf before Pareo could speak. “We wouldn’t want a spell-mummy interfering with Dej sturgeon, or washing up on a beach in the Drowned World.”

“By Nyolach, the Unexpected, that would be unfortunate,” said Merinex, the nasty possibilities of such a mishap magnifying in his thoughts. “Best to keep the spell-mummy where it is until there’s a chance to dissipate its magic. Until it is drained of its spells, we must keep an eye on it.”

“Exactly,” said Zhanf. “I say this not just for the Drowned World, but for every sailor on every ship that plies the waters from Valdihovee to Zegul-Gnax.” He felt a pang of homesickness as he said the name of the Drowned World’s largest island. “A spell-mummy adrift in the sea could create terrible problems.”

“A spell-mummy could indeed cause trouble in those waters,” Merinex agreed, then slapped his hands on the front of his sajah. “Well, I won’t linger. There are others who need to be informed of what’s happened here. I thought it best to report to you first after Housekeeper-General Rocazin of what has been done. No doubt we’ll speak further after our main meal.”

Pareo seemed completely indifferent to this suggestion. “That’s still two hours away, and we have much to do here.”

Little as he disliked fomenting rancor, Zhanf snapped, “Not that what you do has any bearing on Vildecaz.”

Pareo drew himself up, affronted. “I have my duty, as you have yours.”

“So you keep telling me,” Zhanf said, all the while surprised at how abrasive he was being. He wondered if there were some magical influence working here – one he wasn’t aware of. This seemed unlikely, but, he reminded himself, he had been unable to trace Duz Nimuar since he disappeared, and that indicated strong negative magical interference on the usual finding-spells. “I shouldn’t have spoken so harshly,” he said to Pareo as Merinex closed the door. 

“No, you should not have,” said Pareo, and returned to writing his report.

Zhanf sighed and reached for the book he’d set aside. As he found his place, he determined to make another attempt to seek out Duz Nimuar through tracking-spells and locating rituals. Some of the cloaking-spells and other misdirective devices might have dissipated by now, and that would allow him to find more about the Duz. That way, he might be able to summon Ninianee home, or provide her some idea about where her search would succeed. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was preferable to doing nothing.

* * *

Yulko Bihn faced Erianthee across the confines of the solarium, his paunchy body made impressive by his most formidable gaihups of deep-iris Adamine-velvet over which an elaborately embellished dogaza shone with jewels and rare, colored glass beads from Cortinaj on the distant island of Zarifaenee. Two golden Orders hung on gold chains around his neck and he had put rings on every finger. “You’ve certainly been hard to find alone.”

“Magsto,” said Erianthee. “Should you be here?”

“You’d like to keep me away?” He gave her an affronted stare, his breath coming harshly.

“Yes.” She studied him. “That shouldn’t surprise you.”

“Given what you’ve been saying about me, I suppose it shouldn’t. I want to hear no more of your suspicions, Duzna,” he declared, using her older title deliberately.

“What are you talking about, Magsto Bihn? I’m afraid your remarks are incomprehensible to me.” Erianthee said.

“You may stop spreading rumors based only on your dislike of me, and your suspicions about my actions. You accusations are groundless and insulting.” His face was turning red now, and his eyes were shiny with anger.

Knowing it was folly to be talking with Yulko Bihn, Erianthee kept her tone level and polite. “What suspicions do you speak of, Magsto?” She was genuinely puzzled by his attack, and she cocked her head, waiting for his response. Belatedly she rose from her chaise and respected Bihn, this attention to good form making this gesture seem more a slight than a courtesy. “I do not bruit my dislike of you about. The Court has more than enough rumors to deal with; I will not add to them.”

“You have been bruiting it about that I contributed to the conjure-storm,” he said in the full force of his indignation. “Don’t deny it. I’ve been informed by more than one of the Court’s magicians.”

“I’ve said nothing of the sort to anyone. I’ve made no statements in that regard at all.” She studied her father’s old enemy, and thought back to his most recent visit
to Vildecaz. “Not that I wouldn’t have reason to do so.”

“That’s what I mean! You’re not to say such things! It’s not true, Duzna, and you know it!”

“Duzeon,” she corrected him.

“Oh, yes. Duzeon.” He glowered at her, his face showing more outrage. “You will have that title, although your father is only missing not dead. How like you to advance yourself over your father.” He made a gesture of rejection. “What have you done to deserve the honors given you here? The Dowager Empress has singled you out for favor, based on nothing more than your methods of story-telling – which takes many forms, as you have shown. Between your Shadowshows and your whispers, you have sought to slight me at every turn.”

Erianthee regarded him levelly. “So you have chosen to believe the rumors that I have been spreading rumors about you? That is why you’ve sought me out?”

“Don’t attempt to deny it,” he said angrily. “I told you I have heard it from honorable magicians in the service of the Imperial Court.”

“And you are willing to credit them with good intentions?” she inquired.

He fumed as he strove to find the right thing to say. Finally he pointed his index finger at her. “You are to stop telling the Court that I helped – “

”Magsto, let me reiterate: I’ve said nothing to anyone about you, beyond asking Riast to keep us apart, for reasons he doesn’t need me to explain,” she interrupted. “If someone claims I have done so, he or she is in error.”

“You must have,” he countered. “Don’t think I’m deceived. Your mendacity is known to me.”

“Then you’re being advised by someone deliberately set on turning you against me – not that I would have thought such an effort was necessary, for you’ve made your sentiments regarding my family known to us every year you’ve come to Vildecaz to gloat.”

He jerked his head as if slapped. “Gloat? What do you take me for?”

“I take you for a man who rejoices in my father’s misfortunes, for you make no attempt to hide your contempt for him, and his Duzky. In fact, given your feelings about my family, I wonder that you bother to come to Vildecaz at all. No,” she said forcefully, seeing he was about to interrupt her. “I have listened to you and now you will listen to me. Whatever my sentiments regarding your treatment of my father may be, I have no opinion about any role you may or may not have played in the destruction of so much of Tiumboj Castle. Your activities after the conjure-storm should serve to exonerate you from all suspicions. If you want my view, I would assume you would rather preserve Tiumboj than not, since you live here, but I could be mistaken.” Now that she said it, many of the half-formed thoughts that had been with her since she had sheltered in the Vault of Meilianoz and listened to the Castle breaking apart above her. “You may be a Court magician, but I wouldn’t think you were capable of causing a conjure-storm of that size and power. It was beyond the talents you possess. I know that such a storm requires the concentration of talents of many magicians, and I have said so whenever my assessment has been sought. You alone might uproot a tree or two, or break windows, or damage a portion of a roof, but smash the Castle and the whole of the city as well as most of the Porzalk Empire? You couldn’t do it – no one magician could.”

Feeling strangely insulted, Bihn blustered, “So you say.”

“Exactly,” said Erianthee, her temper barely under control. “Much as I may dislike you, Magsto – and never doubt that I do dislike you – I’m not inclined to credit you with more power than you actually possess. You have never been one for confrontation. Your conduct in regard to your duel with my father shows that your talents are limited, or you would have met him honorably, not blasted him before your appointed hour.” He goggled at her as she went coolly on. “You have talent for magic, but it is along traditional lines, and whoever caused that storm is far beyond such limitations.”

Bihn stared at her, feeling at once offended and exonerated. “Well,” he said at last. “See that you don’t impugn me.”

“Why should I? You seem able to do that without any help from me.” She smiled at him, her face alight with satisfaction. “Whom do you suspect caused the conjure-storm? Or are you afraid to say?”

Stung, he snapped, “The Night Priests of Ayon-Tur, or some school very like them.”

Erianthee shook her head in disbelief. “The Night Priests no longer exist.”

“I said or some school like them,” he reminded her. “If you insist on mishearing me – ”

“What a convenient way to avoid implicating anyone while providing an answer no one can factually oppose,” she marveled. “All you need do is evoke a dangerous school from the past, and save yourself being wrong.”

“You’re an impertinent creature, Erianthee of Vildecaz.”

She bit back the sharp retort that sprung to her lips, and instead answered quietly, “If you think me so, what can I be but flattered?” She increased the insult by giving him a profound respect.

This was too much for Yulko Bihn, who glared at her. “If you weren’t the favorite of Riast right now, you would grovel to me for that. Impudent girl!” He took a step back. “However, the Emperor has said that any movement against you is a movement against him, so I will withdraw before I’m driven to gain satisfaction from you.”

“Thank you. As I’ve told you already, I’m familiar with your style of dueling,” Erianthee said sweetly.

Bihn muttered “Gremmi bontaj,” as he beat a retreat, his face almost purple with suppressed rage. He slammed the door on the way out, and the sound of it echoed throughout the solarium.

Erianthee sat down on the chaise, trying to calm herself with staring out the high windows at the clear winter sky, seeing nothing of its luminous blue. She decided she wouldn’t allow images or thoughts of Yulko Bihn enter her mind, but she discovered that in spite of her intentions to the contrary, she continued to fret over his accusations. As warm and pleasant as the solarium could be, her serenity of mind was gone, and for all her determination to be shut of Bihn, she couldn’t banish him entirely, so she paced the small, sunny room, trying to shake off the choler Bihn had roused in her, willing her irritation to dissipate, all to no avail. After half an hour, she gave up and left the solarium, finding her way through the rebuilding chaos of the Castle to her own quarters, where she found Kloveon of Fauthsku setting new windows in place with the help of two workmen.

“Duzeon,” said Kloveon as Erianthee came through the door. He offered her an abbreviated respect so he could hold onto the new frame while the workmen screwed it into place.

“Mirkal,” she responded with a respect, aware that the workmen were watching them.

Kloveon stared at her. “Erianthee, what’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “Not anything important.”

“Your pardon, but I doubt that.” He motioned to the workmen to take over, and set down the level he had been using. “You’re upset.”

“It’s nothing,” she said more firmly. “Or it ought to be.”

“Tell me – in private, of course,” he said, and drew her into the bedchamber, away from the curious workmen. “What happened?”