The Nemesis Blade (81 page)

“What
happened?”

“He was angry
after that. He blamed me for coming back too soon, for his
drinking, and he threw my terrible marriage in my face. He even
called me a spy. I took it for days and then exploded. I was his
age by then, as tall, as strong, and as angry, and we fought hard.
Words, recriminations, fists, brawls that tore us open. At the end
of it I told him I desired immortality also, I would prove I cared
about him first before the others, and he looked at me and told me
that was not why I would do it.” Elianas shrugged. “He was right. I
wanted to live forever, for me.”

Lowen reached
behind him and retrieved the coffee and sugar. She measured off
into the mugs and carried them through to the fire.

Elianas
followed. “I was as accomplished as he was at sorcery, so the
Ritual was soon taught, soon mastered. I did it and he was my
witness. After, he told me to go back to my wife.”

Lowen poured
the water, stirred and handed a mug to him. “Did you?”

“Briefly. We
had one daughter already; the other was conceived then.”

“And
Torrullin?”

“Came to
court, flaunted woman after woman.”

“It hurt.”

“Like hell,
yes.”

“When did that
start?”

“I adored him
the moment I laid eyes on him, a youth just becoming aware of his
sexuality. I said nothing, did nothing, and hoped he would see
nothing.”

“He saw.”

“Of
course.”

“And?”

“Nothing. He
allowed me to live my life according to my choices. Even when I
told him I was getting married, he said nothing. He looked at me
and told me he hoped I would happy. I thought he suspected nothing.
All those years, and I thought I had him duped. Nothing, nothing,
nothing, what a terrible word.” A sigh. “Years passed and life went
on. After the Ritual we drifted apart for a time. I heard he had a
son and he sent a gift when my second daughter was born.”

“I don’t get
that. You were immortal and yet there were children?”

“That was
then, Lowen. Magic was new, raw, untamed, and anything was
possible.”

Lowen nodded.
“How did you discover he knew?”

“Why am I
telling you this?”

“Because I am
listening.”

Elianas
grimaced. “He will not like it.”

“He wants to
dance, so let him dance,” she muttered.

He smiled at
that, and then, “We were never lovers, know that.”

“Fine.”

“I mean
it.”

“Elianas, you
don’t have to sleep with someone to be a lover.”

A long silence
ensued, and then, “Nemisin insisted I go back to Torrullin; a new
spell, he said, ask about a new spell. Torrullin was making waves
and Nemisin was worried. I went, of course.”

He fell silent
again and then frowned. He set his mug down and flung into a
rickety armchair.

Memory
returned, with every detail.

Torrullin sat
on the ledge drawing the storm’s power unto him, as he was wont to.
His hair was cropped short.

“
You cut
your hair,” Elianas said.

“
Why not? I
am about to go into battle.”

It was a reply
that made no sense and Elianas dropped down beside him.
“Battle?”

Torrullin’s
grey eyes were silvery. “Have you come to fuck me over for Nemisin,
or for your own satisfaction?”

In the
armchair Elianas closed his eyes and forgot Lowen was there.

Elianas hit
him and watched his lip burst open. The blood drew him like a
magnet. Torrullin did not even lick it away; he watched Elianas’
face. Elianas could not stop himself - he leaned in to lick it off,
shaking as if in a fever. Torrullin halted him before he could get
there, taking Elianas’ head gently between his hands and then
threading his hands into the long, dark silkiness.

“
I know
you, Elianas. I have always known you. Stop fighting.”

“Elianas?”
Lowen’s voice sounded insistent.

Eyes opened.
“He did not trust my motives for being there and we fought. The
truth came out then,” he muttered. “I do not want to talk about it,
please. It was a strange time.”

Torrullin
released him. Tentatively, Elianas ran a finger over Torrullin’s
back, tracing a line down his spine. His back was wet from the
storm, and a finger became a hand, spreading the droplets, and
Torrullin did not move. Elianas leaned forward to lick and still he
did not move.

Lick
transformed into nibble and then Torrullin said, “This is the
furthest it will ever go, understood?”

For the most
part that was the furthest it went. Every time it stormed.

Lowen was
anxious. Elianas sat with his head bowed, hands clenched. Gods,
what now?

“Leave, Lowen.
Already I have said too much.”

“Are you all
right?”

“I want to be
alone.”

She stared at
him. She came to chase him away or tell him where she thought he
stood and now she felt sorry for him. Damn it, not good.

Lowen rose.
Memory had triggered buried feelings; she knew, exactly, how
destructive it could be. She also knew he was beyond her help.

She let
herself out and transported across the lake to Torrullin’s
villa.

Torrullin was
not there and she had not expected to find him, but for the present
she had nowhere else to go.

Elianas flung
out into the cold.

Self-control;
he had exercised immense self-control - where was it now?

He stood at
the edge of the cliff. Just once, goddamn it, just once he would
like to feel Torrullin’s hands on him.

Chapter 63

Future is
objective.

~ Truth?

Valaris

T
ianoman was in love.

He was in love
with life, with challenge and with his wife. Married now for two
years, he could not get enough of Aislinn. He rolled over, kissed
her naked shoulder and smiled at her.

Now he was
also in love with the child growing inside her. His son.

Suddenly he
whooped out, “Today is going to be the best day!”

Aislinn
smiled. Who would have thought a childhood dream would become
reality? She loved her husband as much as he did her. She basked in
his love, was secure in it, and now she would give him something
that would complete him. A baby would complete both of them.

“The sun is
high, Tian,” she murmured. “It’s time to show your face,
perhaps?”

He grinned.
“Bugger that - come here!”

“My Lord, my
Lord!”

Tianoman
halted his amorous adventure. “Now what?”

“Sounds like
Sirlasin,” Aislinn murmured, stroking his arm.

There was a
scuffle outside their door and then a theatrical shushing …

Tianoman sat
up in bed staring at that door, “My god, I think …” Then he was in
motion, scattering bedcovers Aislinn saved to cover herself, when
the door burst inward.

“I heard you
got married, cousin!” Tristan called out as he strode in, grey eyes
alight with laughter.

“Tris!” Then
they were hugging, laughing and crying simultaneously.

Aislinn sat up
in bed covered to her throat with untidy bedclothes and smiled
widely. Now Tianoman would cease his fretting.

Tristan
grinned at her. “Aislinn, I thought he would pick you.”

“I picked
him,” she said, laughing.

Tianoman found
clothes, shoved into them and then gave his wife a smacking kiss.
“See you later, all right?”

“Go, go!” she
laughed, shooing him away.

Tianoman
smiled, gripped Tristan by the shoulder and walked him out. “I want
to hear everything!”

The cousins
vanished around the door, and then Tianoman’s head popped back
around. “Sorry, I’ll close the door - love you!”

Aislinn
laughed again as the door was rather roughly shut. She sank back
down into the bed to sleep more.

Being pregnant
was so tiring.

The Keep was
in uproar by the time they reached the courtyard.

Tianoman
grinned and called out, “Celebration tonight!”

“Aye, Lord
Vallorin!” Sirlasin shouted back. “Already on it!”

Tianoman
smiled and drew Tristan through the Dragon doors and into the
valley. “Where are the others?”

“Caballa is in
Menllik bending Vanar and Yiddin’s ears; Quilla is at the
Lifesource, but the others? Who knows?” Tristan took deep breaths
of Valaris air. It was cold, but so familiar he loved it. “It is
good to be back. How long were we gone?”

“The whole lot
of us were away about a year, and you were gone another three.”

Tristan was
expressionless. Three years to a void second? Good god. Aloud he
said, “Four years? Hell, feels like two weeks. Amazing.”

“How did it
go?”

“It was a bit
rough, but …” and Tristan threw his arms wide, “… we obviously
succeeded!”

“Yes, and
mighty relieved the rest of us were, I can tell you.”

“Where’s
Teroux?”

“Xen, with
Rose. They are about to tie the knot.”

Tristan
smiled. “Torrullin said it would happen. He was right. He also said
they weren’t permitted to wed until you had an heir.” He gave his
cousin a sidelong glance.

Tianoman
grinned. “Oh, is that right? Then I guess you found me out.”

“Really?”
Tristan shouted and punched the air. “Awesome!” He gripped Tian to
him and kissed him soundly on both cheeks. “Congratulations!”

“Shh, man, we
haven’t told anyone yet. We have a few months to plan a decent
wedding for Teroux and Rose and I think Teroux is secretly
relieved. He loves Rose, but is sceptical about commitment. Of
course, once they know of the baby …”

“Rose will
start hounding him,” Tristan laughed. “It’s great to think of
normal things again, I must admit.”

“The first
weeks were odd, very stressful. We kept expecting everything to
vanish or wobble or something. The fading Sabian mentioned and all
that.”

“I can
imagine. So, how soon were you Vallorin?”

“Six months.
Vanar put her foot down.”

“Difficult?”

“No. Smooth as
silk.”

“How is it
being Vallorin?”

Tianoman
stared ahead. “The addiction of the Throne is real, trust me. I do
not recommend it.”

Tristan
nodded. “What Torrullin said.”

Tianoman
looked him over. “You are almost forty, or do the years between not
add up?”

“No, for us it
would be two weeks.”

“Come, cousin,
spit it out. You are different.”

“Immortal.”

Tianoman
nodded and then looked away. “I suspected. One can sense it - ha,
didn’t know that before. Interesting. And?”

“I found out a
few hours ago. No ‘and’ yet. I don’t quite know what to think. Or
feel.” Tristan frowned as he recalled the conundrum in the Syllvan
grotto. How bad could longevity be?

“So asking
what you plan to do…?”

“… will get
you no answer.”

“Will you tell
me about the void?” Tianoman entered thoughtful mode.

A beat.
“No.”

Tianoman
stared over the landscape. “And thus you confirm my suspicions.
Bad. Never mind, I won’t push.”

“I
can
tell
you of the Syllvan.”

“Yes, really?”
A swift smile. “Well, come on, start talking …”

They were off,
catching up.

That night the
Keep threw a party.

Teroux came
with Rose, Aislinn danced merrily with Tianoman, and Tristan and
Caballa made no secret of their burgeoning relationship.

Quilla came
also and decided to forget cares for a time; he got quite tipsy and
told really tall stories.

Vanar and
Yiddin wiped away tears of happiness and relief, and Valleur were
invited from all three worlds, and humans swirled among the dancers
as welcome as the Golden. Sabian danced up a storm. He was
considered Valarian - one day, perhaps, it would change.

A good time
was had by all.

A cliché many
would later recall and use with fondness … and wistfulness.

Elsewhere

Elsewhere, on
Mariner Island, Elianas wandered the windswept cliffs.

He could not
see the future. The way ahead was clouded in darkness. He wondered
if that was a good state.

At the villa
Lowen sat staring into the fire and then started to weep, great
gasping sobs she could not stop once the flood breeched the her
walls.

Teighlar,
invited to Valaris for the celebration, declined. In Grinwallin, he
waited upon Torrullin. A few matters needed to be squared away
before the real political dealing with Valaris’ new Vallorin could
commence. He wandered the Great Hall in silence. He often saw
Grinwallin in ruin, unable to wipe the memory of it away, and would
then stop and shudder.

On Akhavar
Saska rode her horse across the plain, galloping away from pain and
disappointment. She was invited also, and said no. First there was
Torrullin to deal with. No celebration could have meaning until she
knew where she stood.

She wondered
whether it was Lowen or Elianas that kept him away.

In the Dome
the Kaval gathered. They waited also.

That
proverbial light did not go out or waver for an instant.

Chapter 64

Sometimes you
have to start over, friend. Sometimes it is the best way
forward.

~ Awl

Somewhere

H
igh on a mountaintop above the
cloud line, Torrullin sat.

He was relaxed
and, although his behind was numb from the long sit, found the
silence too precious to consider moving.

There was
little to see beyond the swirling vapours. It suited him. Mighty
views were often mighty problems.