Agnith's Promise: The Vildecaz Talents, Book 3 (26 page)

“You mentioned that to me,” said Erianthee, thinking back to many of their meetings.

“I mentioned some of it to you, not all.  And since we left Tiumboj, I’ve begun to reckon the many doubts that are still in Riast’s mind.  He has supposed that his son may not want to harm the Empire, but he may ally himself with those who do  – the questioning I have endured suggested that.  Riast accused me of wanting to spare Bozidar from any responsibility he may bear about the conjure-storm because I believe Riast’s son wouldn’t work against the Empire.”  He coughed.  “I may not be welcome in the Porzalk Empire for a while  – until the origins of the conjure-storm are known.”  He rubbed his face with his gloved hand.  “I don’t want to be exiled on unfounded suspicions, but if I must stay away from Fauthsku, then I would like to choose the place.”

“You’re welcome to stay at Vildecaz for as long as you think necessary,” she said at once, knowing it was what he expected, and what she was hoping for.

“That’s generous of you,” he said with a hint of his usual gallantry.  “I thank you, and I’ll accept your offer if it’s necessary, provided my being there won’t put you in danger.”  He glanced back at the company behind them.  “I wish I knew what became of our guide.”

“You said he was hurt in the fight,” she reminded him.

“Yes, he told me he had a cut to the leg.  He said he’d catch up with us,” Kloveon told her.  “But he’s still missing.”

“Perhaps his injuries have kept him abed.  Cuts to the leg can take a long time to heal.”  Erianthee blushed as she said this, thinking of her own swoon and her gradual recovery.  “Perhaps, once we reach Vildecaz Castle, we should send a messenger back to The Blue Hound to see if there’s been any report on him, or if he has been there.  I’ll also send a letter to the Priests of Dallan-Noj as well, in case they’ve taken him in.  They’d be apt to do that.” 

“He’s the Emperor’s man, provided to me, and it behooves me to look after him.  I’ll dispatch the letters, if you won’t object.”

“If it’s necessary, then do as you think best,” said Erianthee.  “Do you think he might have known the men would attack us?  Is that the reason for your hesitation?”

“Perhaps,” he said.

“What do you think happened to him?”  she asked, aware that his incertitude could work against him.

“I don’t know  – and that bothers me.  When the masked men fled, he might well have gone with them, or after them.  They could have captured him during the fray.  He could have gone off on his own, getting away from the fighting. I wish someone had noticed.”  He made an impatient gesture and scowled at his own cogitations.  “Well, nothing I can do now, is there?  I’m not about to ask you to use your talent to discover his fate  – that would be reprehensible.”

“You can keep on toward Vildecaz,” she suggested.  “Time enough to make inquiries when we get there.  We have Magsto Zhanf there, I trust, whose talent is very great.”

“If he’s there, then I’ll ask him.  If not  – is your household magician talented at locating the missing?”

Erianthee laughed.  “Heijot Merinex?  If they’re within the Castle walls, probably, but beyond them, I think not.  He’s not really very effective beyond the walls.”

Kloveon pressed his lips closed, saying nothing for fifty heartbeats.  “Someone will help us.”

“Once we arrive?  Yes, I guess so.”

This uncertainty was new to Erianthee, and it troubled Kloveon. “What about your sister?” he ventured.  “Won’t she be willing to – ”

“Her talents extend to communicating with animals, not humans.  But perhaps the animals can tell her something, and we can learn from what she discovers.  I’d like to find out if she and I could effect a communication together.”  It struck Erianthee that she would have a great deal to tell Ninianee upon her return, and a vast amount of new information to impart.  Again she felt slightly ashamed that she had left her sister to deal with Vildecaz while she went to the Imperial Court, for Ninianee would have had to contend with her Changing on her own, which Erianthee knew was difficult.

“I hope she won’t mind if I ask her to try,” said Kloveon.  “I think I’ll need to know more about many things before I’ll have an idea about what’s best to do  – for both of us.”

“I don’t think she will mind, not if she understands why we’re asking,” said Erianthee, not wholly convinced that Ninianee would be willing to undertake such an effort.  “If my father has returned,” she went on, trying to sound confident, “he may be able to help.”

“I hope he has,” said Kloveon.

“So do I,” said Erianthee.  “I hate not knowing where he is, or what’s become of him.”

Kloveon nodded.  “Understandably.”

Erianthee tried to summon up a witty response, but discovered that she couldn’t find the right words to be encouraging and amusing at once.  She decided to change the subject.  “We’ll have at least five more nights together.”

“More than that, I hope,” he said, his glumness vanishing.

“You mean once we’re back at Vildecaz Castle, you want to continue officially?”

She felt a sudden nervousness at the contemplation of such a step, and the significant alteration such a declaration represented.  In spite of their joyous couplings, she wasn’t yet sure of his purpose with her.  “You needn’t continue with me if all you want is sanctuary.  You may have that for all you’ve done.”

“Do you want to end our love-making?”  He tried to keep his tone neutral, but without success.

“No.  But you don’t have to share my bed in order to have my protection.”  She kept her gaze on the road ahead.  “Unless you want to continue as we have been.”

“Of course I do.”  His voice rang with sincerity.  “You didn’t think I was only acting out of impulse, did you, or to gain your protection.  I’ve been courting you for over a year.”

“As Mirkal of Fauthsku,” she reminded him.  “Alliance with Vildecaz would benefit Fauthsku a great deal.  You told me so yourself.”

“In the hope you would consider my offer,” he said.  “You and I have to deal with our positions in life, even in love, little though we may want to.”

“I’m aware of that.”  She drew in her copper-dun and moved a little closer to him as the road narrowed.  Behind them, the mounted escorts moved in between the wagons rather than flank them.

Kloveon became uncomfortable.  “The Emperor could exile me and pass Fauthsku to someone he felt was more worthy to hold it for him.  It’s not the kind of thing Riast has done before, but he hasn’t had to face so much disruption until now, for with all the ruin in Tiumboj, he must depend upon his allies far more than he has in the past.  I might have to give half the income of my Mirkalin to the Empire so that the Empire can be fully restored, which would be a burden to all the people of Fauthsku/ Perhaps Riast could order me to Court as a means of insuring Fauthsku’s allegiance  – he’s done that with others in my position, in which case you would be expected to accompany me. That might change how my status as official suitor would be perceived, both in Vildecaz and the Porzalk Empire.  Vildecaz might not want one of its Duzeons so much under the demands of the Emperor.”

“Possibly, but none of those considerations is enough for me to revoke my acceptance of you,” said Erianthee, who had anticipated this reservation and was prepared to deal with it.  “My father is himself something of an exile, even in his own Duzky.”

“Do you think he will return?”  Kloveon asked hesitantly.  Since she had manifested a god, Kloveon thought she might have a greater understanding of her father’s fate, though she said nothing about it.

“I think he will if he’s alive,” said Erianthee, and patted the copper-dun’s neck as if to reassure herself as much as the horse.  “I don’t know when.”

“Oh, Erianthee,” he said, keenly aware of her sadness.

“We’ll probably know more once we reach Vildecaz,” she said, trying to persuade herself this was a reasonable expectation.

He smiled.  “Yes.  Probably we will.”

* * *

They came down on Duz Kinzyrach’s Road that ran from the Hovanthroee Bridge to the Library of Duz Kinzyrach and led past the North Tower and the North Gate of Vildecaz Castle, Doms in the saddle, Ninianee up behind him, their chests and cases strapped around her.  The afternoon was sunny, warm in the light but cold in the shadows, a reminder that winter hadn’t yet departed.  Womilaj picked up his pace as he sensed the approach to his own paddock and stable.  As they neared the gate, the pony whinnied, and was answered by a chorus of others.  It was the twenty-seventh day of the Thirteenth Month, and Last Day was four days away, just as Doms had reckoned, and there were signs of activity inside the Castle walls.

“Are you ready to return?”  Doms asked Ninianee.  “We could just ride on toward the Library and choose another road to try.”

“Don’t jest,” she said lightly.  “I have to return to the Castle and my life.”

“Suppose your father is back, and your sister.  Would you be willing to spend another several months with me?”

“Would you want me to?”  she challenged.

There was no doubt of his constancy.  “Every day.  Every day, Ninianee.”

On the tower battlements, an officer looked over the side and shouted down, “Who comes to Vildecaz Castle?”

“Duzeon Ninianee,” she called back.  “And Yaolaj Doms Guyon.  Admit us  – without fuss.”  As she ordered this, Womilaj moved out of the shadow of the tower and sunlight struck the confined red curls of her hair.

“Oh, Agnith!”  the officer shouted.  “Duzeon Ninianee.  It is you!”  He waved his arm to the others on the battlements.  “You men!  Open the gate!  Duzeon Ninianee is home!”  This was greeted with a confusion of shouts and there was a noisy scramble to remove the heavy brace that held the gate.

“So much for a circumspect return,” Ninianee said to Doms.

“I told you this would happen,” he rejoined.

There was a groan of metal on metal and the gate swung ponderously back.  Four guards hurried out to respect her, doing their best to ask no questions as they escorted the seal-brown pony through the gate, although their eyes were huge with speculation.  Ninianee returned the respect as best she could from where she sat.  One of the Day Guards ran ahead of them, hurrying along the path between the paddocks and pens, shouting to make way for Duzeon Ninianee.  As the pony followed the Guard, more and more of the Castle’s folk came out to see the arrivals.

By the time they reached the entry to the stable-court, there were dozens of Guards and Castle staff clustered about them.  As they dismounted, Garminrich came out of the stable and offered first Ninianee and then Doms a deep respect.  “Let me welcome you home, Duzeon.  It’s good to have at least one of our Duzeons at Vildecaz Castle,” he said in a carrying voice as he reached for the reins of Womilaj.  “The pony’s very shaggy.  You must have gone into cold places.”

“We did,” said Ninianee, returning his respect, even as she wondered what had delayed Erianthee.  “See he’s groomed and fed.  He’ll need new shoes.  He’s had his shoes changed twice since we left, but he’s overdue for new ones.”  She paused.  “I gather my father hasn’t returned yet.”

“He hasn’t.  Nor has your sister.”  He coughed once. “And what do you want me to do with your cases?”

“Have them brought to my sitting room,” said Doms.  “Wherever it may be.”  This slightly sardonic remark inspired a buzz of whispers. 

Much of the crowd gathered in the stable-court parted as General Rocazin made her way forward to welcome Ninianee home.  “You’ve been missed, Duzeon,” she said as she made her respect first to Ninianee and then to Doms.  “And you are welcome.” She showed no surprise at seeing the Duzeon in his company.  “I’ve ordered the bath-house heated, your private apartments opened, and . . . we’ll hold a proper welcome this evening.  We’ll summon musicians from Valdihovee and have the trumpeter play Welcome the Family before we dine.”  She looked over at Doms.  “What provision do you want for your companion.”

Ninianee knew this moment was coming, so she had prepared herself for it, but she still felt odd saying this aloud.  “Yaolaj Doms Guyon is my Official Suitor.  His quarters are my quarters, and his requests are mine as well.  I request that all of the Castle’s residents treat him with the esteem which he is due.”  She tried not to hear the general gasp and subsequent whispers that accompanied this announcement.  “You will make him welcome here, I am sure.”

“As you wish,” said General Rocazin.  “Would you like to eat before or after you bathe?  I ask because I can see you’ve lost some flesh during your absence.  If you’re hungry right now, Ver Mindicaz can provide you winter soup at once, and a proper meal in an hour.”

“The bath would be most welcome.  And we’ll dine with the rest of the household at the end of afternoon.  You’ll have a little extra time to prepare for the occasion.”  She gave General Rocazin an impulsive hug as she started toward the side entrance to the Castle’s keep.  “I have much to thank you for, I know, and the same for many others.”  She motioned to Doms to come with her, thinking as she did
that this was all happening much too fast, that she needed a day or two to ease back into the life of Vildecaz Castle.  But with Duz Nimuar still missing and Erianthee not yet returned, she knew she couldn’t ask for such a luxury as a gradual reintegration.  “I will need to have reports on developments in the last months.”