Hunter and Fox (11 page)

Talyn stood still and found that she was looking for the tall shape of her escort. It was not that she was curious. It was just that she knew so few here and did not care to know those she did. He at least had shown an interest in Talyn the Dark, most despised of the Vaerli.

She thought she caught a glimpse of him moving between the circles of people chatting at the fringes of the dance. But no matter how she stared, his distant figure grew no closer, and the more she concentrated the harder it seemed to spot him.

“Talyn.” Once again the Caisah had come up on her without warning, but this time he was free of his entourage. That implied he had ordered them not to follow. He took her hand from her side and led her out on the dance floor. Out of the corner of one eye Talyn saw Kelanim twitch her fan faster.

The Caisah gestured out to the musicians. “The Vigoura,” he commanded.

It was a lively dance, and Talyn had not performed it for decades. They circled each other, hands on hips, eyes never leaving each other, feet stamping to the beat.

No one else dared enter the floor uninvited while their lord danced with his hawk. He caught her up by the waist, pushing her up and above his head, before letting her slide down his length to the floor once more. It was a dance of eroticism, usually danced at weddings and fertility rites—hardly suitable for dancing with her. She could feel every one of his mistresses' eyes boring into her, and every member of the gentry watching each step just as minutely.

Talyn took his hand and they turned. “What are you doing?”

The Caisah caught and held her again. “I saw you talking with that man.”

She stepped away with the beat of the music, only her fingertips touching his. “I don't quite get your meaning.”

Another swirl of the rhythm, and he propelled her into the air before letting her once again down, pressed against him. “All this time I thought you were mine, my Hunter. But now I hear whispers that your eyes travel elsewhere while you are not at Perilous.”

Her throat caught as she spun away trying to find an answer, a dissembly that would soothe his strange jealousy.

They circled again, eyes locked. “I think you should be reminded you are mine.” The Caisah's voice was a low rumble barely heard above the music.

The dance was ending with the drums rattling out the last pounding rhythms. The Caisah grasped her waist and pulled her taut against him. His face was inches from hers, while their breath came rapidly against each other's cheek. If he kissed her now Talyn wasn't sure what she'd do, for she had no blade.

Whatever whim had stirred him departed abruptly. Before she could react, the Caisah had dropped her back on her feet and stalked from the dance floor. Talyn, after a second, followed.

She retreated from the whispers and stares, knowing she was acting like a beaten dog. The Caisah had disappeared entirely. Deprived of their sport, the rest of the masked observers reluctantly took to the floor.

Taking a small glass of chilled juice, Talyn slipped through the outside door and to the relative quiet of the balcony. Angrily, she discovered she was shaking.

What thoughts were in the Caisah's head? Had one stranger's meager attentions changed something in their set relationship? After being sure that she would give in to any sexual advances he made, Talyn was now uncertain.

He knew something of her actions beyond V'nae Rae. Even a few hours' ease from the rigors of her life was too much, it seemed. Perhaps she'd been lucky for her dalliances to pass unnoticed for so long.

Talyn rubbed her arms, abruptly aware that they were bruised and sore where he had grabbed her. If she had needed another demonstration of his power, this was it. They would fade quickly, yet the point had been made.

“Am I disturbing you?” Her young escort stood poised to leave if she spoke the word. His masked face was doubly hidden in the shadows.

Taking a sip from her glass, Talyn considered for a moment before replying. “It is dangerous for you, I'm afraid.”

The tall form stood straighter and, taking a sudden step closer, shut the balcony door behind him. “If you don't mind the company, I'll dare it.”

They stood for a while, each with their own thoughts, looking out over the moonlit beauty of V'nae Rae. He was a good-enough companion: bearing her silence, and not asking any questions about what the whole of the Court had just seen.

Finally, though, Talyn finished her drink and watched him cautiously out of the corner of her eye. Dipping into the before-time, she endeavored to see what he might do, but there was nothing.

So she spoke instead. “Won't you tell me your name?”

A smile flickered at the edge of his mouth. “Now, what would be the fun in that? Besides, this is a masque, there are no names tonight. Not even for the Caisah.”

Talyn managed to keep the names she'd have liked to call her enemy to herself.

“Why don't you tell me a story instead? How about a tale of V'nae Rae? You must know it as no other does.”

And because he had been kind to her, and because it was indeed a beautiful night, she did.

Talyn pointed to the outer curtain wall where the
pae atuae
could still be seen gleaming against the stone in silver and white. “When the Vaerli ruled here, those walls would have been lined with the
maie shara
on a full moon like tonight. They would be calling to the Kindred with such pure voices that any who heard them would weep with the beauty of it. The magics they sang strengthened the pact with the realms of Chaos and allowed Perilous to remain.”

“
Maie shara
,” he whispered. “The artists of song who weave magic with it. What a wonder it would be to hear them…”

It was shock that made Talyn blurt out something she'd never mentioned to anyone before. “I was meant to be one of them—before the Harrowing.”

“Indeed.” He actually sighed. “The Harrowing has another victim, then, for it would have been an honor to hear you sing. I'm sure you have an exquisite voice.”

She couldn't read his face, no intent of his stained the before-time, but suddenly she felt as though they had met. Surely no one of five minutes' acquaintance could look at her so boldly.

“I really am a fool.” Talyn stepped closer to examine what little of his face showed beneath the mask. “It was you at the Gates and then at the games. Who are you? Why are you following me?” He had certainly looked like no well-to-do gentry at either of those previous times.

He cocked his head. “Perhaps I can help you recall.”

Reaching out, he took her face in his hands. Talyn did not move. Then he bent and kissed her. It was not the gentle enquiring kiss of a new love. It was tongue and teeth with the ragged breath of full-blown passion. It was the kiss of someone who already knew her, and had felt her lips before.

He let her loose and stroked her cheek. “Now must I die for my impertinence, Talyn the Dark?”

She swallowed. “Twice tonight I have been accosted by men and not asked for it, but perhaps this night all sins are forgiven. I shall let you keep breathing.”

He laughed and bowed a fraction. “Then I shall escape while your graciousness remains. Perhaps next time you will really recall where we have met and who I am.” He turned and slipped out the door.

What a strange night. Talyn turned away and tried to think rationally. She had not looked for all this, and it certainly did not figure in her plans. She was simply not used to such turmoil—at least not recently. With bounties there was always a beginning and an end. It was always very simple a matter between her and the hunted. Tonight was quite different. Yet somehow her spirits were lifted. She did not daunt at least one person in this world, and perhaps that meant that a spark of her old self still remained. It was a comforting thought that she held onto.

Of all the foolish things he had ever done, Finn knew going out onto that balcony had topped them all. He shut the door behind him as quickly as he could, and stepped away, letting his minor power hide him amongst all the lords and ladies. He did not know if it would cloak him from Talyn, but at this stage it was all he had.

Walking away, he did not hear her follow. It was a good thing, too. She would probably recover herself soon enough and, though not carrying a weapon tonight, she could still kill him in a hundred other ways.

His purpose in coming here had not been to kiss the Caisah's Hunter, but seeing her out on the balcony like that, he had taken a chance. Finn had seethed with anger when the Caisah had mauled her on the dance floor. The emotion on her face afterwards was there for everyone to see: despair and loathing. The talk around him had been worse—he only hoped she had not heard it.

“The Caisah's Hunter?” one pale-faced lady had sniffed. “More like his whore.”

He had ground his teeth at that. Couldn't they understand how trapped she was? How tormented? If there was one thing Finn understood it was human emotion, so he couldn't be angry with them for long because they were blinded by fear of Talyn the Dark. They had never lain in her arms, kissed the soft small of her back, or all the secret curves of her body usually hidden by armor.

“Focus,” Finn whispered as he wove deeper into the crowd. Sometimes he wondered if he enjoyed tormenting himself. Depressive darkness always hovered at the edge of his vision and he was its maker. Tonight, though, he had to remember why he was here.

He could always judge the mood of a place, and right now the air thick with perfume was ripe for the weaving of stories. The ballroom, packed with drunken people and more than a little loosened by the anonymity of the masks, was perfect for his purposes.

It could still be his last talespinning, but desperation had driven him here. The people of the inns and the streets, whom he had spent years trying to foment into rebellion, were not falling into line with his plans. They cried at all the appropriate moments, thought when goaded, but still did nothing.

What was needed was a leader, someone who would dare to begin an uprising. Previous rebellions had failed because of the lack of a really charismatic figurehead. Looking around, Finn could only hope that there was some hard-done-by member of the gentry he could reach here. Surely there was someone who had felt the touch of the Caisah's cruelty and was ready to make a move. If there was, then his talespinning would reach someone and it wouldn't matter what happened to Finn—he would have passed the torch of rebellion on to another. Once lit it would spread. Or so he hoped.

A lull in the music was his signal. With a well-considered flourish, Finn leapt onto the table where a huge lavender cake was displayed. It was the center of the milling crowd, and it would do as well as any stage. He had only seconds to speak before the guards realized what was happening. If he did not have them in his thrall quickly then the whole effort would be in vain.

They cheered and raised their glasses, thinking he was one of them and well into his cups, and probably expecting him to topple off the table at any moment. At this late stage in the festivities they were looking for some variety in their entertainment, and he meant to give it to them.

Always start with a bang
, Finn reminded himself. Taking a well-measured breath, he began.

“In between chaos and order, against destruction and death, the Vaerli stand.”

The crowd paused. Even those who had not seen him mount the tabletop were turned in his direction. His voice, trained by years of dedication to his craft, traveled right to the back of the ballroom, cutting across the faint strains of the musicians tuning for another song. Finn used all his body to speak, his breath perfectly timed from his diaphragm as his teacher Muyesth had schooled him, and every note of his tale was colored with emotion. From the first words out of his mouth he knew that he had them. At the doorways, even the guards were not moving.

“The leader of the Vaerli, Ellyria Dragonsoul, was tested by the Kindred. Through fire and pain she had to travel to earn the right to stand before the red hot core whence all Chaos comes.”

A slight movement in the crowd caught his eye. Entranced already by his words, the lords and ladies only swayed slightly to allow Talyn to pass. She took her spot near the front—but did not move to stop him. He could have sworn there was a ghost of a smile on her lips.

He was too much of a master to falter at that.

“The Vaerli came to Conhaero through the White Void which had been opened up just for them by the Kindred. In the nature of their kind, the Kindred did not make anything easy for Ellyria and her people.

“After finding places in the changing landscape for her people to live, Ellyria set out to find the Kindred who called to her through shadow and fire. Many years she had to travel, looking in every boiling lake and deep cavern of the earth. The journey exacted a terrible price on her, for the Vaerli were new to the world and did not yet possess the Gifts. She grew old and tired looking for the voices that led her into all the wilds of this new land.