Lesson of the Fire (11 page)

“How have you been, my love?” he asked
slowly, as though very weary or uninterested.

Does he think I’ve been
unfaithful?
Erika flushed. Not that she
hadn’t thought about it, but she knew Erbark would never betray
Sven.
Would I?

“Fine, Sven.” Erika shifted nervously.
“Where have you been?”

Sven fingered his red cloak. “Domus Palus.”
His right eye caught a glint of firelight, transformed it into an
orb of red light to contrast the deep green of his left.

“Domus Palus?” She was confused.

“Yes.” He paused. At last, he gave a soft
laugh that sounded almost like a rasp. “You might find this hard to
believe, Erika, but I am now Mardux.”

Behind her, Erbark released a held breath.
“That explains some things.”

Sven’s face turned a little to look at him
directly, and the shadow clouded his entire face. “Thank you for
taking care of my family in my absence, Erbark. I know what it has
meant to you.”

“Will you be here tomorrow?” Erbark
asked.

“Yes. We will talk then.”

Erbark nodded, turned on his heel and
vanished into the night, closing the door behind him.

Erika swallowed. “If you’ve taken the Chair
that means … ”

Sven nodded grimly. “I preserved one
opponent but was forced to slay two others. I have come to take you
and Asa to the citadel with me. It might no longer be safe for you
here.”

Her patience slipped. “But we’re comfortable
here, Sven. Asa’s playmates are here. I’ve made new friends of all
the women at the Academy. I’ve almost finished my studies. And
Domus Palus is so far away from Leiben, I’d never get to see my
relatives.”

She knew there had to be a better argument
for staying, but she was too angry to come up with any others.

He shook his head firmly. “That is not
important now. My enemies know you are here. They will try to use
you and Asa to get to me. I cannot bear to see my family suffer,
but nor can I surrender to my opponents. If they captured you and
demanded my abdication as ransom, I would be forced to make a
choice.”

Erika began to cry. “Oh Sven, why can’t you
ever be happy? Why do you always need something bigger to do?
Aren’t we good enough for you?”

Sven’s green eyes flashed red in the
firelight and then changed to an eager green as he wrapped his arms
tenderly around her. “Shh. My dear, I am doing this for you, for
Asa, for our children’s families. You have to understand. I started
the Protectorates to improve the lives of the Mar. Zerst, Leiben,
Tortz — they were all kindling for the flame of change. Now, the
fires have gotten strong enough that I can add larger logs. I have
enkindled the flame of change in Domus Palus in the last several
spans. The wet wood is just starting to burn a little. All it needs
is someone to fan it, and then real change can happen in
Marrishland. But if I leave it unattended, the whole fire will go
out, and I’ll have to start again with kindling. I have to bring
warmth and illumination to the Mar. It is my destiny!”

Erika tried to formulate an argument that
would sway her single-minded husband, convince him that maybe so
much change was not good all at once. But she knew from previous
discussions that nothing could convince Sven to abandon his
ambitions. He needed evidence, not appeals to tradition or emotion.
How, then, could anyone change his mind?

From the nursery came the frightened squeals
of children.

“Oh by Fraemauna, Asa!” Erika cried.

Her husband momentarily forgotten, she raced
to the door. She yanked it open to find the room filled with smoke.
Tendrils of flame snaked up one wooden wall. The children huddled
in the opposite corner, sobbing in terror. Asa looked up at her
mother in surprise and relief.

Erika gathered Energy, hurled the magic at
the flames to extinguish them. Then she grabbed her daughter in a
crushing embrace. “What happened, Asa? How’d the fire start?”

Asa burst into tears. “It was an
accident.”

Erika ran her fingers through the girl’s
hair soothingly. “Tell mommy all about it.”

The girl spoke between sobs. “We were
playing Academy. And I was teaching them magic, but Ottar couldn’t
see the myst, so I gave them all torutsen. Then the green motes
were all around me, and I got scared, and everything was on
fire.”

“There, there,” Erika said softly, though
inside she was as shaken as the children. “Everything is all right,
now. We’ll take care of this in the morning. Right now, it’s time
for your friends to go home. Their parents will worry about
them.”

Asa nodded weakly.

The woman addressed the entire nursery. “And
I don’t want to catch any of you drinking torutsen again.”

A six-year-old squirmed. “It was Asa’s
idea.”

“Unn!” Asa moaned, betrayed.

“Home, all of you,” Sven rumbled from the
door.

“Daddy?!” Asa cried in joy and terror.

The children scampered past him and out into
the night.

“And Asa.”

The girl looked up at her father nervously.
“Yes, daddy?”

“You are to go to bed right now. We will
discuss your behavior in the morning.”

Asa hung her head. “Yes, daddy.”

Erika kissed the girl on the forehead. “You
go to sleep. Everything will be all right.”

Asa nodded and hugged her mother’s neck.
Then, not meeting her father’s burning gaze, she retreated to her
bedroom, whispering, “I missed you, daddy.”

Sven examined his wife’s face carefully.

She did not flinch. “You could at least have
spent a few minutes with her after being away from home for so
long.”

He ignored the comment. “How long has she
been playing this game?”

“The last three months.” Then, bitterly, “If
you were at home more, you’d know that.”

“Three months, and she’s already stealing
torutsen and playing with the myst?”

Erika nodded silently.

“Where did she learn to use magic?”

“She’s grown up at a wizards’ academy,
surrounded by magic. She’s very bright. It was only a matter of
time before she learned to do it herself.”

“I could get in a lot of trouble if someone
found out about this.”

“Your daughter almost burned to death in
your house, and you’re worried about what would happen to you?” she
raged, turning her back on him.

He must have caught the bitterness in her
voice, because he softened. “I’m just afraid my enemies will try to
do something to her. This might give them an excuse.”

Then his arms were around her, and his lips
pressed against the back of her neck tenderly.

How can a man so gentle be so cruel?

“I understand,” she said, even though she
really didn’t. She touched the back of his hand with hers, and he
clasped it, their fingers weaving together.

“Then you see why we must go to Domus Palus.
I can protect both of you there. I can finish your apprenticeship
myself, and we will both work to raise our daughter where it’s
safe.”

Safer than being here
where everyone loves you and would never let anything bad happen to
her?
Erika thought, but his lips were
seeking her cheek and then her mouth.

She turned in his arms and slipped her hands
around the back of his neck. His chest pressed against hers as he
breathed deeply, inhaling her scent. His boots fell to the floor,
and she could hear her own heart pounding in her ears as they made
their way to the bedroom.

“Well? Will you?” he whispered in her ear as
the fingers of his left hand kneaded the small of her back.

She barely heard him as she undid the clasp
of his cloak and let the red cloth fall in a bundle at their feet.
Her mind was filled with the thought of having him close again.

He suddenly pulled his head away from hers
and studied her face in the darkness. She couldn’t see his eyes,
but she knew how they were looking at her — how they were searching
for her understanding, her approval.

She could offer him neither, but she laid
one hand on his arm. “I love you, Sven Takraf. I would gladly
follow you to the Dead Swamps if you asked.”

He planted a long, grateful kiss on her
mouth. They separated for just a moment to undress.

His hand touched her bare shoulder. She
sighed heavily, which he seemed to mistake for eagerness, for he
pulled her close.

“Please promise you will never leave without
warning like that again,” Erika murmured almost absently.

He froze like a rabbit in the path of a
gobbel, and she immediately hated herself for it.

He recovered quickly. “I promise,” he
whispered in her ear.

But even in the darkness of their bedroom,
in the heat of the moment, Erika knew this promise could not bind
for long. Her husband was not a guardian of home, hearth and
family. He was a visionary, a champion of the Mar and now the
Mardux. She had married him thinking she had found a good man, but
he had turned out to be a great man, and she couldn’t say whether
what she felt was more pride or disappointment at that
knowledge.

Chapter 10

“
Amber is for Knowledge. Knowledge serves
two extremely useful functions. First, it can gather a wide variety
of information about the physical world, allowing a wizard to view
the myst without torutsen, track enemy movements from great
distances, and much more. Second, it can be used to create triggers
for other spells by reacting to measurable circumstances, granting
magical effects rudimentary intelligence.”

— Nightfire Tradition,

Nightfire’s Magical Primer

Katla Duxpite strolled through the halls of
Volund’s keep at Flasten Palus as if she did not wish death on
every red living there. That it had been built of wood, not stone,
was not a reflection of its shortage of wealth or power, she knew,
but a purely practical consideration. Flasten Palus was not built
on a foundation of coastal-quarried stone as was Domus Palus or
Pidel Palus. The Duxy of Flasten was almost entirely a flat marsh
reminiscent of the Fens of Reur, but with shallower water. Stone
would have sunk into the mud within a decade.

When I am finished, Volund
will wish it had sunk, and him with it,
Katla vowed fiercely.

Flasten’s primary product was wild rice,
which had little demand in the rest of Marrishland and virtually
none outside of it. By rights, it should have been as much of a
poor satellite of Domus as Piljerka, Skrem and Gunne. Volund’s
ancestors, in fact, had lived in a glorified grass and mud daub hut
for four generations. The only reason it had risen above its
obscurity was the “innovation” of Volund’s grandfather, who first
hit upon the idea of selling enslaved mundanes captured just beyond
Flasten’s boundaries to foreign traders from Manerem and
Aflighan.

Katla could hear arguing voices even from
outside the council chamber, and she paused to listen.

“ … has given us nothing but empty promises
for nearly a year, while Sven Takraf’s power grows. When she comes
in here, I will … ”

Katla pushed the door wide open and swept
into the room. She fixed her eyes on Vigfus Vielfrae.

“You will what? Send more greens to abduct a
Mardux who surrounds himself with hundreds of yellows?” She snorted
in laughter.

Vigfus said nothing, but Katla now had the
attention of the entire room — from Volund and his sons to Arnora,
Ari, Valgird and Robert.

I see you finally
exchanged your yellow for red, Robert,
she
noted absently.
Do you think the Mar would
salute you if you took the Chair?

Power slammed the doors shut behind Katla
with a boom. She strode toward the long table as she spoke with
contempt and anger made all the more convincing because she utterly
loathed them all. “While you have been wasting time with your
pathetic schemes to corrupt minor bureaucrats in Domus Palus, my
master has been holding back the full fury of the Mass with nothing
but his honeyed tongue. Do you know what he has promised the
Drakes?”

Volund’s face looked placid, which could
only mean he was masking real fury at her tone. Ragnar was less
successful at it and seemed on the point of objecting. The other
wizards looked serious but clearly took their cues from the
dux.

“Results.” Katla tapped her finger on the
table for emphasis. “Duxfest is only two months away — ninety days.
Will the Mass get the results it demands of my master, or will
hundreds of thousands of Mar die because of your incompetence?” She
directed these last words directly at Volund, and his control
faltered for just a moment.

“Weard Duxpite, we appreciate your …
perspective on this matter,” the dux managed with a thin smile. “If
you would please have a seat, we would be all too happy to discuss
our options.”

Katla wanted to refuse. Brack’s prestige
among these wizards granted her considerable influence over them,
even if she was only his apprentice. She wanted to hurl more
insults at the Dux of Flasten under his own roof.

She recalled Brack’s words
on diplomacy.
Pull when they expect you to
push, and push when they think you will pull. People are most at
your mercy when they think they are directing the
negotiations.
She sat at the foot of the
table.

Volund folded his hands on the table and
tried to look like he was in easy command of the situation. “We do
not have the numbers to take the Chair this year. Even if we
succeeded, Weard Schwert will only topple whoever defeats Weard
Takraf. Nor can we abduct the Mardux or his family unless we can
lure them away from their bodyguards. We have no remedies that are
within the Law.”

As if you ever respected
the Law!
Katla thought fiercely, but she
said nothing.