The Awakened Mage (54 page)

“Veira’s a bossy old besom and don’t you try telling me otherwise!”

His lips quirked in a tiny smile. “Actually, she reminds me of you.”

“Did I ask your opinion?”

He sighed. “No. So I won’t give it. And since the wagon’s ready, I’m off to harness Bessie.”

“Fine,” she muttered through gritted teeth as the door banged shut behind him. “I hope she stands on all your toes and breaks them.”

“Not a very charitable wish, child,” chided Veira from the other doorway. A padded dark blue coat was folded over her arm. “You ride too roughshod over that young man.”

Dathne felt her face warm. “He’s got broad shoulders,” she said defensively. “He can carry a few harsh words . from me.”

“It’s not if he can,” said Veira. “It’s if he should, and we both know the answer to that.”

Abandoning the basket, Dathne dropped into the nearest kitchen chair, watching as Veira put down the coat she carried and picked up the swaddled bottle of poison from the benchtop. The old woman’s expression was unbearably sad.

Abruptly, anger died. “Veira… don’t take that with you. Rescue Asher without it.”

“We can’t,” said Veira, not looking around. “This is the way it has to be. One life … for another.”

“Why? It’s
murder!
”

Three of Veira’s hairpins were coming loose. She put down the poison and poked and prodded them back into place. “It’s sacrifice. There’s a difference.”

“Asher wouldn’t like what you’re planning, Veira. He wouldn’t want to be rescued like this. I know him, and he wouldn’t want it!”

Veira turned, her kindly, wrinkled face now hard with purpose. “I don’t much care for what he wants, child. Or what you want either. This is about Prophecy, not personal desires. You may have forgotten that but others haven’t.”

The barb was unexpected; for a moment she could hardly breathe, let alone speak. “That’s unfair.”

A scornful snort. “Life’s unfair, child.”

Which was, unfortunately, true. She picked up the thread of her original argument, loath to let it go. “As

Jervale’s Heir I should be coming with you. Please, Veira, don’t make me stay behind!”

Veira shook her head. “Behind is where you belong.”

It was like telling a tree not to grow, or the sun to rise upside down: pointless. But that didn’t stop her from trying. “But, Veira, I
need
to be there. Asher might not trust you or Matt. He will trust me.”

With a sharp sigh Veira took a step closer. “Child, child, emotion is addling your wits. What wise housewife puts all her eggs in one basket? Should this rescue fail, should we be discovered or Prophecy thwarted somehow by the darkness struggling to defeat us, you must pick up the Circle’s pieces. You must become Heir and Guardian both. In my bedroom, on my dresser, I’ve left you instructions. Should the worst befall us, follow them exactly. Do what you can to save as many as possible. Save yourself. Bear your child. For it too is a part of Prophecy’s plans and doubtless has some grand destiny whose purpose we still don’t know.”

All without warning, Dathne felt herself flooded with tears.
“Damn…”

Veira’s eyes were brimming too. “Have faith, child. Trust in Prophecy. Between us, Matthias and Rafel and I will bring your Asher home.”

“Rafel?” she whispered.

Veira nodded. “The man we go to meet on the way.”

The man who soon would die. Had she really wanted a name? Yes, but now she regretted knowing it. Names were real. Names belonged to the hving and called to mind the dead. Feeling unsteady, she forced herself to her feet. “When you reach this Rafel, tell him thank you. Tell him I’m sorry. Tell him I wish there was another way.”

Solemn, sorrowful, Veira reached out a hand and touched cold fingertips to her cheek. “I will, child. For all of us.”

Dathne looked so forlorn, so abandoned, as she stood waving them goodbye from the cottage’s front gate that Matt almost asked Veira to reconsider and let her come with them after all.

But only almost. Because he was in truth quite glad she wasn’t coming. Was instead left safe behind in the middle of the Black Woods where no harm would come to her if this mad plan to rescue Asher fell all to pieces, as it seemed most likely it would.

Sunk equally deep in blankets and silence, Veira sat beside him on the little wagon’s bench seat and let him get on with the driving. Bessie, a good-natured animal, seemed quite happy to venture out in the dark. Didn’t take much driving at all, just the occasional “hup-hup” and rattle of reins to keep her up to the bridle as she jog-walk-jogged along the empty road. For that he felt a little sorry. More energetic driving would give him less empty time to think about things he’d rather not consider.

Veira still hadn’t revealed the details of this trip. All she’d said was they’d be traveling without stop until they reached Dorana, except for picking up someone else from the Circle.

Someone, he suspected, he’d not long have the chance to know.

It was just one of the many things he didn’t want to think about.

Slowly, steadily, the miles unrolled behind them. The night grew colder, marching towards sunrise, and he wrapped an extra blanket round his shoulders. Held the reins in one hand so he could warm the other in his armpit, and swapped them over time and again.

Eventually the morning came. Veira stirred and fed them from the basket. They were well along the Black Woods Road now. Sheep grazed on either side and rabbits scuttled white-tailed as they creaked on by but otherwise they were quite alone. Veira ordered him into the back of the wagon to stretch out and sleep properly. Happy to obey her he lay down, tucked the blankets around him and fell into a dreamless oblivion.

She woke him some little time later and he sat up, stiff and yawning. They stopped long enough to take turns ducking behind some convenient bushes, eat a little more and give the pony a short rest, and then resumed their traveling.

The sun had climbed almost to ten o’clock when they reached the West Road intersect where a man stood patiently with his eyes shaded, staring in their direction. At first, ridiculously, Matt thought it was Asher and his hands tightened on the reins.

Beside him, having a rest from driving and dozing with her eyes half closed, Veira tapped him on the knee and said, “No. It’s not him. But looks-wise it could be.”

He nodded, feeling suddenly ill. He was beginning to make out the bones of this rescue. “And that’s why you chose him?”

“Prophecy chose him, Matthias. Not me.” Veira sighed. “Does it ever make your blood run cold with wonder? That we’re in dire trouble, needing some kind of a miracle, and here’s a young man who looks like another young man near enough to be his mirror self, or a brother, and he’s one of us and willing to say, ‘Take me to do what’s needed’?”

He swallowed bile. “Everything about this business makes my blood run cold. I doubt if it’s with wonder. How well do you know him, this young man?”

It took Veira a little time to answer. She smoothed the sleeves of her padded coat. Tucked her hair behind her ears, then tugged it free again. Chewed on a ragged fingernail, making it worse. He waited, not patient, but knowing he hadn’t a choice.

“His name is Rafel, and I know him well enough. His mother was my youngest sister,” Veira said at last, sighing again. “When Timon Spake died, and then his father Edvord, the Circle required a new member. Prophecy pointed its finger at Rafel.”

Shocked, he stared at her. “And you heeded it? This man’s your own flesh and blood, Veira. And in your pocket you carry—”

Her sideways look at him was bleak. Reproving. “I know what he is, Matthias, and what I carry. So does he. He comes to this quite willing.”

“And you?” he whispered. “How willing are you, Veira, to kill—”

“Be silent!” she commanded. “Don’t you understand yet? Prophecy must be served without fear or favor or it can’t be served at all! Did you think this would be
easy!
Did you think we’d save our Innocent Mage without we pay a
price?”

He wrapped his fingers round her wrist and gently drew her from him. “Not one this costly.”

“Then you’re a fool, Matthias, and I wonder if I can use you at all!” she retorted.

There were tears in her eyes. Seeing them, he felt ashamed. He was a fool to think she didn’t know what she was doing, to think her blind to the consequences of their actions. She’d lived with them longer than he’d been alive. He picked up her hand and kissed it.

“I’m sorry. I’ll not question you again.”

That made her smile. “Of course you will. I think that’s why Prophecy chose you. It’s your job, and you do it well. Now hush. Rafe’s close enough to hear us and we don’t want him to see us brangling. What’s waiting in Dorana will be hard enough. Let’s not have him thinking we’ve anything on our minds but the gift he’s agreed to give us.”

Rafel, who so eerily looked like Asher and shared family blood with Veira, appeared remarkably cheerful for a man going to his death. Up close Matt could see he was younger than Asher by maybe a year or two, and not quite so heavily muscled. He wondered if that would make a difference. Rafel swung himself and his knapsack easily into the cart as it stopped beside him and settled himself behind the driver’s seat, with his arms folded neatly along its back.

Veira kissed his cheek, unsmiling. “Rafe.” He nodded, eyes warm with affection. “Veira.”

“You ready then?”

“I’m ready.” He had a clear, light voice. Not like Asher’s gravelly growling at all. Neither of his eyebrows was scarred. Hopefully Veira had brought some scissors, to make a quick adjustment. “So. Do you know yet how—”

She pressed a finger to his lips. “Let’s not think on that just now. Best you don’t have the details to dwell on till they’re needed.”

His smile was swift and wry. “Maybe so.” Matt knew he was staring. Couldn’t help it. “I’m Matt.”

“Good to meet a fellow Circleman, Matt.” Hesitant, he shook Rafel’s proffered hand. “Likewise.”

“You hungry, Rafe?” asked Veira. “Give me the reins, Matthias, and dig out some food from the basket. I’ll have an egg. Peeled, if you please.”

So he handed over Bessie’s reins and peeled them both an egg. Offered one to Rafel, but he refused.

“Strange days,” the young man said, and shook his head. “I never thought I’d live to see them.”

“None of us did, Rafe,” said Veira sadly, and dabbed salt from her fingers with her tongue. “But it’s why we’re here. Why the Circle was formed. Sooner or later these days were bound to arrive.”

“That’s true,” agreed Rafel. A small silence fell, bloated with words unspoken. He broke it, eventually, saying, “And it’s really him? The Innocent Mage?”

“Yes, Rafe,” said Veira. “It’s really him.”

Matt felt his throat close. He couldn’t imagine what this young man was feeling, or know the depth of his courage. His honor. Turning a little so he could see that disconcerting face he said, “I’d like to thank you, Rafel.”

The young man looked at the sun-splashed passing countryside. “No need. We’re all born with different things to do. This is mine.”

“There is need. Asher—the Innocent Mage—he’s my friend,” Matt said. “You’re saving my friend. I wanted you to know that, is all.”

“Ah,” said Rafel, and smiled. “That’s good. That’s nice. Saving a kingdom’s a grand thing to do but it does feel a tiddle bit impersonal. Saving your friend, though. That makes a difference.”

“You won’t be forgotten,” he insisted. “He won’t forget you, although you’ll never meet.”

“None will forget our Rafel,” said Veira, a warning note in her voice. “I’ll take the pony now, Matthias. You forage in that basket again and find me some sweet plum cake. And from here on in, I think we’ll get used to calling you by a different name. No sense advertising who you are.”

“Changing my name is easy,” Matt said. “But what about my face? I’m well known in the City. Even with a hooded cloak and darkness to hide in, there’s a chance I’ll be recognized. I heard you tell Dathne you had some . trick?”

Veira nodded. “That I do. But I’ll wait a while before I play it. I’m not sure how long it’ll hold.”

That didn’t sound encouraging, but she was looking so sad he didn’t have the heart to press further. Instead he smiled and nodded, saying, “Whatever you think best, Veira.”

She dug his ribs with her elbow. “I think plum cake’s best. Didn’t I say so? You’re a bit young to be deaf, aren’t you?”

As Rafel chuckled and Veira pretended flouncy offense Matt handed over the reins and dragged the basket into his lap. “Here you are, mistress,” he said with mock servility, and dropped a lump of moist cake in her lap.

“Why thank you, Meister… Meister…” Her lips pursed as she thought about it. “Maklin, I think,” she finished at last. “I knew a Maklin once. A right silly fool if ever I met one, and definitely hard of hearing.”

Matt swallowed a snort. Exchanged amused glances with Rafel, and took the reins back from Veira so she could enjoy her cake.

Darran was industriously polishing the staircase banister when Willer returned to the Tower. The foyer doors flung open without so much as a knock and the horrid little man sauntered in reeking of arrogance and pomposity.

He flung down his polishing cloth, not bothering to hide his contempt. “In Bari’s sweet name, Willer, what do you want now? We gave you all Durm’s books, I promise!”

“I’ve a message for Gar,” said Willer, smirking. “From His Majesty King Conroyd.”

He nearly slapped the smug and shiny face in front of him. Had to pinch his fingers together behind his back to stop himself. “Not Gar,” he said icily. “His Royal Highness, the Prince. Call his name like a commoner one more time and you’ll live to regret it.”

Willer’s eyes narrowed to ugly slits. “Threaten me one more time and you’ll not live at all,” he hissed. “Bolliton has no relevance now. You’re an old man serving a destitute and deluded outcast cripple, while I am personal assistant to the king. His strong right arm. His trusted companion.”