Magic's Pawn (19 page)

Vanyel nodded; by the startled agreement in his eyes, Savil reckoned that this was a speculation he’d entertained before this, although for different causes. “So is there
anything
I can do?’’ he asked quietly.

“Obviously,” she said, “Or I wouldn’t be talking to you now. But you aren’t going to like the solution to your problem. It’s pretty heartbreakingly simple. Outside of this room, Vanyel,
nothing is to change. “

“But - “ He twisted his head around to see what Tylendel thought about this, only to find that his lover was nodding, in complete agreement with her.

“Savil’s right, Van,” Tylendel said sadly.

“But - “ Vanyel protested, holding out one hand toward him in entreaty, then turning the same pleading eyes on Savil when Tylendel shook his head.

“Mardic and Donni are discreet, and I’d trust Margret to keep what she knows behind her teeth even under torture, but if you want to
stay
here, Vanyel, you won’t say or do anything to betray your relationship to ‘Lendel. The moment people start to talk, it’ll get back to your father.”

“The quickest way to make them talk, love,” Tylendel said in what was almost a whisper, “is to change. Is to even be
friendlier
to me than you have been. You told me the girls told you I was a pervert.” Vanyel’s eyes widened at Tylendel’s directness. “It can’t have escaped your notice how they sniggered and giggled about it, and they were being
polite.
My preferences are not generally socially acceptable. There are only two reasons why I have as little trouble as I do. The first is that I’m a Herald-trainee, and Heralds are allowed a bit more license than ordinary mortals. And my patron is Savil. She just happens to outrank everybody in the Circle except the Queen’s Own.”

“And the other reason?” Vanyel said in a very subdued voice.

What stretched Tylendel’s mouth was something less than a smile. “The fact that I took a couple of the worst offenders on and kept knocking them down until they didn’t get up.”

“Oh.”

Tylendel caught up one of his hands in both of his own. “I
know
you want everyone to know about us. I can’t tell you how much that means to me. But it will mean a lot more to me to know you were going to be able to
stay
with me.”

“And to do that, young Vanyel,” Savil said, intruding into the intense interaction between them, “you are going to have to begin a performance a Master Player couldn’t equal. ‘Lendel and I have been talking about you this afternoon.”

From the complete astonishment on his face, Savil could tell that he
hadn’t
guessed they’d been in conference via Mindspeech. For that matter, it might be that he didn’t know they both had that Gift.

“We share the Mindspeech Gift, lad, and it’s damned useful at times like this. He’s told me some of what you told him, and it rather changed my mind about you. But I will not lie to you; I’m going to help you because
he
wants it, because he wants you here. So now I’m going to
order
you; outside of this suite you are to be the same arrogant little bastard that arrived here. And if you can manage to be
slightly
rude to ‘Lendel, that’s even better. And in return, I’ll make this suite a little sanctuary for the two of you. Is it a bargain?”

Vanyel, who had gone rather pale, gulped, and nodded.

Savil smiled for the first time since she’d begun this conference.

“That’s a good lad. If you’re half of what ‘Lendel claims for you, I’m going to come to like you a great deal, and I’m sorry for the treatment you’ve had from your father. I’ll tell you that he
isn’t
the same person I knew when I was Chosen. He’s gone stiff and stubborn, and altogether hidebound. Maybe it’s age; maybe it’s that a lot of his old friends have taken the Long Walk and he’s seeing Death looking for him, too. Maybe it’s that priest he’s gotten tied up with - I just don’t know.” She coughed. “Well, that’s not to the point; what
is
to the point is that you’ll only have to keep up this charade until you’re eighteen; you’ll be your own man then, and can do what you please. And I’ll see to it that ‘Lendel begins having trouble with his Mage-lessons.” She winked, and Tylendel chortled. “I think we can keep him out of Whites until you’re of age. After that,”
if this love affair lasts that long
“you’ll have to make your decisions on your own. Fair enough?”

“More than fair, Aunt Savil.” Vanyel looked very subdued, and quite unlike the boy that had faced her something like a month ago. She couldn’t quite pinpoint why.

:’Lendel, what is it about him?:
she Mindspoke, letting her puzzlement drift over.

:No masks,:
came the immediate answer.
.-This is the
real
Vanyel, dearheart. The one nobody but me - and maybe his sister
-
has seen. Now see why I love him?:

The last thought stopped her cold.
:Are you that sure,
ke’chara?
Are you really that sure?:

His eyes caught hers over Vanyel’s head; caught and held them.
:I’m that sure.:

:And him ?:

:I don’( know; but he was willing to defy his father for me, and I think that says something.:

She closed her own eyes against that burning, intense gaze.
:Then may the gods help and guard you.:

She turned her attention back to Vanyel, and quickly. He was still looking toward Tylendel, and the very same look was in his eyes - and a vulnerability and apprehension that cut at her heart.

“I’ll help you all I can, son,” she said quietly. “I’ll help you all I can.”

Don’t go yet,” Tylendel said abruptly, as Vanyel picked himself up off the floor.

Vanyel gave him a look of uncertainty. He was still too new to this - being open. He was still waiting for blows that never came.

But Tylendel seemed to know that.

“It’s all right, Van,” he said softly. “It’s really all right. I have a good reason.”

“I’ve got a lesson,” he protested. “History, and I’m still behind the other three.”

Tylendel made a wry face. “You’re a law unto yourself, remember? At least that’s what you’re supposed to be acting like. You skipped your lessons this morning, skip the rest of them today; tell ‘em you were sick. Tell ‘em the storm last night gave you a headache.”

“But - “

“It’s important,” Tylendel coaxed. “Really, it is. More important than that history lesson. If you’re behind, I’ll coach you. Please?”

It didn’t take much encouragement from Tylendel to get him to do what he already
wanted
to do; lessons were hardly as attractive as more of Tylendel’s company.
Here
he wasn’t going to be hurt. Here - someone cared for him. It was as heady as a little too much wine, only without the hangover.

Vanyel closed the door to his room, then turned an expectant face toward his lover, poised with one hand still on the latch.

Tylendel stretched lazily, reaching for the ceiling with his head tilted back. Then he dropped his arms, rose from his seat on the bed, and walked over to put his hand behind Vanyel’s shoulder.

“There’s somebody I want you to meet,” he said, gently pushing Vanyel in the direction of the room’s outside door.

“But - “ Vanyel protested weakly, “I thought - “

“You’re awfully fond of that word ‘but,’ love,” Tylen-del chuckled. “What does it take to get you to say something else?”

He opened the door, still without enlightening Vanyel as to the reason why he was going to introduce Vanyel to someone after Savil had just got done telling them both that they were to keep the relationship a secret -

- and Tylendel had agreed with her.

Vanyel started to protest again, realized that the only thing he could think of to say was “but,” and subsided, as Tylendel guided him out the door to the gardens beyond.

“You see that bridge?” Tylendel pointed northward to the first of the two bridges crossing the Terilee River on the Palace grounds. “And that stand of pines on the other side?”

Vanyel nodded; it was quite a healthy grove, in fact, and the trees extended a good distance back into the Field. They were tall, very thick, and a deep green that was almost black, with huge branches that drooped beneath their own weight until they touched the ground.

“You count to fifty after you see me go in there, then you follow,” Tylendel ordered. “In case anybody happens to come by, though, or looks out a window, you’d better try your hand at acting the arrogant little prig.”

Vanyel nodded again; completely mystified, but willing to go along with about anything that Tylendel wanted. He posed himself carefully, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, attempting to look as if he were simply idling about in the gardens, while Tylendel sauntered off.

This is going to be harder than it was before,
he thought somberly, trying to look anywhere except after Tylendel.
I
didn’t have anything to lose, before. Now I have everything to lose if I slip.
He closed his eyes, and turned his face up to the sun, as if he were savoring the warmth.
But if I don’t slip - oh, gods, whichever one of you is responsible for this
-
it’s worth anything. I swear, it’s worth anything you ask of me!

He chanced a sideways glance across the river; Tylendel was only just reaching the pine grove. He looked away, strolled over to a stand of daylilies, admired them for a moment, then glanced across the river again. Tylendel’s blond hair gleamed against the dark boughs like a tangled skein of spun sunlight, then vanished as the branches closed behind him.

Vanyel transferred his admiration to a bed of rose vines, languidly bending to inhale their perfume, all the while counting to the requisite fifty. He had no sooner reached the required number, though, when a giggling flock of his admirers rounded a hedge, saw him, and altered their course to intersect with his.

Oh, no!
he thought, dismayed, and looked surreptitiously about for an escape route, but saw no way to avoid them. Sighing, he resigned himself to the inevitable, and waited for their arrival.

“Vanyel,
what are you doing out here?” asked slim, barely-adolescent Jillian, batting her sandy lashes at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be at lessons?”

Vanyel covered a wince.
It
would
have to be Jillian. No common sense, and the moral fiber of a hound in heat. And after me with all the dedication you’d see in a hawk stooping on a pigeon. Lord. I hope her father marries
her
off quick, or she ‘II be sleeping her way around the Court before long.

But he smiled at her, a smile with a calculated amount of pain in it. “A rotten headache, pretty one. It took me last night when the storm came in, and I
cannot
be rid of it. I tried sleeping in, but - “ he shrugged. “My aunt
suggested
I take a long walk.’’

The entire covey giggled in near-unison. “Suggested with a stick, I’ll bet,” dark Kertire said sardonically, squinting into the sunlight. “Sour Savil. Well, we’ll walk with
you
then, and keep you from being bored,”

Vanyel bit his lip in vexation and thought quickly. “She
suggested
my course, as well,” he told them, grimacing.

“To the end of Companion’s Field and back. And I have no doubt she’s watching from her window.”

He pouted at them. “Much as I would adore your company, my pretties, I rather doubt those slippers you’re wearing are equal to a hike across a field full of - er - “

“Horseturds,” said Jesalis inelegantly, wrinkling her nose and tossing her blonde curls over her shoulder. “Bother. No, you’re right,” she continued, sticking her foot out a little, and surveying the embroidered rose-satin slipper on it with regret.
“I just
finished the embroidery on these and got them back from the cobbler; I don’t want them spoiled, and they would be before we’d gotten half across.” The others murmured similar sentiments as their faces fell. “We’re
never
going to forgive you for deserting us, Vanyel.”

“Now
that’s
unfair,” he exclaimed, assuming a crushed expression. “Blaming me for the orders of my crotchety old aunt!” He rolled his eyes mournfully at them.

Jesalis giggled. “We’ll only forgive you if you promise to make it up to us tonight after dinner.’’

“Tonight?” he asked, pained by the idea of spending the evening with them instead of with Tylendel as they’d planned this morning.

They mistook his expression for headache. “Well, not if you still aren’t feeling well,” Jesalis amended.

“After a tramp across a perilous obstacle course like
that,’’
he gestured flamboyantly at the Field across the river, ‘ ‘I much doubt I ‘m going to be feeling
better.’’

“Well - “

“A bargain; if you’ll forgive me, I’ll come and play for you while you’re doing finework tomorrow morning,” he said, quite desperately, willing to promise them almost anything to avoid losing his evening, and recalling that they’d all been pestering him to play for them. Before it hadn’t been possible; it would have hurt too much. Now, though - well, becoming - or not becoming - a Bard didn’t seem all that important anymore. And consequently the thought of music didn’t hurt anymore. Or not as much. Certainly it was a small price to pay for having his evening free.