The Sorcerer's Concubine (The Telepath and the Sorcerer Book 1) (6 page)

Horan squinted at them over an account book. He was a skinny man whose knobby hands and spectacles suggested that he occasionally paid for a little shape-shifting to his face to keep wrinkles away, but not much else. “A concubine? She’s dressed like a stable boy.”

“It’s my fault,” Grau said. “But find me a stable boy this pretty.”

“That’ll have to wait until morning,” Horan joked. “And we charge extra for it, too.”

Besides some initial surprise that Velsa could eat, her presence at the dinner table was accepted without much comment.

“Grau, aren’t you supposed to join the border patrol?” Horan asked at dinner.

“Soon.”

“I’d reconsider, if it’s true about the dragon.”

“Dragon?” Grau seemed close to laughter. “That’s quite a rumor. A dragon, down here? If nothing else, the Miralem wouldn’t put a precious dragon in danger. I heard there are only about fifty left in the whole world.”

“I think there must be a few more than that,” Horan said. “And I tell you, there’s one in the mountains. Lots of people have seen it.”

“Which people, dear?” the woman said, seeming as skeptical as Grau.

“Travelers!” Horan said. “The ones that come through all the time and talk to me for hours. Unlike you, I listen.”

“Oh, what nonsense. If I don’t listen, it’s because I’m tired of tall tales. I’m sure if there was a dragon in the mountains we’d hear about it in the papers and not just in whispers.”

“You don’t think we’ll ever really see a dragon, do you?” Velsa asked Grau that night as she settled into bed.

“No,” he said, without hesitation, as he unbuttoned his boots. “They’re very rare. They always have been, but loads of them died in the War of the Crystals. The population never recovered.”

A fire-breathing dragon would have no trouble harming a Fanarlem.

“You’re not afraid of a dragon, are you?” he asked.

“Shouldn’t I be?”

“I’d like to see one,” he said.

“A friendly one, maybe.”

“From a comfortable distance,” he agreed. “Of course. But they’re the only magic beast left in the world.”

“What happened to the rest?”

“They went extinct. People killed them. The dragons allowed themselves to be tamed in order to survive. They’re clever enough to negotiate.”

“That’s sad, though.”

He settled into bed beside her. “Kill or be killed. Control or be controlled. You probably sympathize with the dragons now, don’t you?”

“I do. But Fanarlem have no choice.”

“I don’t think the dragons really did either.” She rested her head on the pillow, his head lifted just above her. She liked watching his face as he spoke; in the House she mostly only saw other Fanarlem faces. The girls didn’t have quite so many subtleties of expression, so many small muscles. “Do you want me to set you free?” he asked.

“I’d be in far more danger if you set me free. I wouldn’t know where to go.”

His lips pressed together in a grim expression; when they parted again, his mouth had a faint wet sheen. For some reason it made her think of the flowers that bloomed outside the House in the spring, when the dew kissed them in the morning.

“I like having you with me,” he said. “I didn’t consider that you might resent anyone who owned you, doesn’t matter who it is.”

She was quiet, for a long moment, torn between all the things she had been taught and all the feelings buried deep within her. She wanted to be free, but she couldn’t be free, and she hardly knew what it would mean. A simple path had been laid out for her, to share Grau’s life as a willing servant and die with her soul redeemed. She imagined it would be a life of suffering, but this no longer felt true.

However, he seemed to question this path himself. It could only get them both in trouble.

S
ometimes
, all the eye could see were fields of brown grass, cut though with snaking streams, without a house to be seen. The roads had been built up above the fields, but they were mucky or washed out in sections and Grau led Fern very carefully.

This was the marshland.

“I grew up here,” he told her. “It isn’t to everyone’s taste.”

“I like it,” she said.

“I thought you might. Mountains and beaches get all the glory, but I always do my best thinking in the marshes.”

In the late afternoon, a week since they had left Nisa, Grau looked at the landscape ahead. A solitary building poked distantly above the sea of grass.

“Hmm,” he said, squinting. She had already come to realize that this was his favorite word. “That isn’t right. Where is the house? This is the right place, I’m sure of it. Fern, where is the house?” Occasionally, he spoke to the horse. “I always stop with the Marnow family on my way home and all I see is the barn. I hope nothing happened…”

It was getting dark when they reached the barn, and the cold rain was starting up again. Grau was shivering even in his wool coat. The house was leveled, stones scattered throughout the marshes, leaving a foundation and the remains of furniture and broken plates.

“I can’t believe it,” he said. “I hope they’re all right. They were such a nice family. At least we can still sleep in the barn.”

“Grau, you’re already cold! It’ll be worse tonight.” Thunder rumbled in the distance, and Velsa jumped.

“We get a lot of winter thunderstorms around here,” he said, rubbing her back. “They come off Idle Lake in the north. We need shelter, even if it’s shabby. Let’s take a look inside.”

He shoved open one of the large wooden doors with his shoulder. Within the barn were piles of hay that reached the rafters. The barn leaked in places, and some of the hay had molded. Grau sneezed.

“That’s unfortunate,” he said. “Still, we can create a little heat.” He dug in his pocket and produced a crystal, not a mere light-stone, but a proper crystal, clear and multi-faceted.

“A crystal…” She marveled at it a moment. Crystals helped to capture and magnify magic, but they were certainly more expensive than anything the girls could afford.

“Magic can be done without crystals, as you saw when I grabbed that fire at the inn, but it is much more difficult. The crystal will help channel the elements. This hay spent plenty of time in the sun, and it still has the sun’s power caught within it.”

He pointed the crystal toward the piles of hay, sweeping it across in an arc, several times. He breathed deeply, in time with the rhythm.

He stopped to show her how the crystal was growing warmer. She put her fingertips to the smooth surface, which now felt like it had been resting near a fireplace. 

“Now, we throw the magic back into the hay.” He stepped forward forcefully, stomping the ground, and held the crystal outward. Steam rose from the hay in wisps, warming the air. He finished the magic with purposeful waves of his arms. The steam turned to clouds, so much that the room grew muggy.

Grau shrugged his coat off. “It won’t last long,” he said. “But it’ll have to do. It won’t be the nicest place we’ve ever slept, but we’ll be home tomorrow and have our clothes washed.”

She had some sympathy, now, for how the men who came to the House might not smell the best. It wasn’t always easy to stay clean while traveling. Her fingers had a gray tinge, and Grau, admittedly, was looking pretty haggard with his hair and clothing wet.

He had just stepped out to bring in Fern when she heard a cough above her head. Followed by some male voices speaking in a confused whisper.

Velsa edged to the door.

Grau returned just as a man’s face peered down from the loft. “Hey!” he shouted. “This is our damned barn. Find your own place to sleep!”

Behind him, another man said, “He warmed up the place. Maybe we should let him be.”

“I’m not sleeping with a horse.”

“Who are you?” Grau asked. “What happened to the Marnows?”

“None of your concern.” The man climbed down the ladder, which Velsa hadn’t even noticed until now, as it was in the shadows against the wall, and in fact, not so much as a ladder as a collection of hand-holds nailed into the planks. Velsa thought the object slung across his back was a rifle. She had never actually seen one, only heard the rumors of powerful new weapons.

“This land belongs to the Unified Army of the High Sorcerer,” the man said, as soon as his boots hit the ground. He came marching up to them.

“I don’t understand,” Grau said.

“You don’t need to understand anything more than that. This land belongs to Kalan Jherin now, and we’re his representatives, so we’d appreciate if you move along.”

Two more men were coming down the ladder. They all wore trim jackets styled unusually short, with hems that fell just a few inches below their belts. Their hair was also short, cut close around their ears. They must come from Nalim Ima, where the High Sorcerer Kalan Jherin kept his palace.

“We just want a place to spend the night,” Grau said. “We’ll move along in the morning. But I still want to know what happened to the Marnows. They wouldn’t sell their land.”

“Wouldn’t they?” The men chuckled.

“I really don’t think it would hurt if they spent the night,” said the burliest of the men. He must have been six and a half feet tall. “Look at this girl he has with him.”

“Where are the Marnows?” Grau demanded, clutching his crystal so they all could see it. “You expect me to believe that Kalan Jherin showed up, bought up their land and then leveled the house?”

The men all immediately shifted their rifles off their backs to point at Grau. “Put that away. We don’t want any trouble,” the third man said. Despite his reasonable words, he sounded a little drunk. “That’s exactly what happened. The Marnows moved to the city.”

Grau lowered his hand slightly. “Why would Kalan Jherin buy land out here?”

“To drain for farming. We’re just guarding it now.”

“Hey, lad,” the burly man said. “Keep the barn heated and we’ll let you stay.”

Grau walked closer. “I’ve stayed with the Marnows when I come by here for the last five years. They would never sell their land without someone twisting their arm. And I’m no one’s ‘lad’. You’re the ones who ought to move along. What is Kalan’s army doing all the way out here anyway?”

The barrel of a rifle jabbed into Grau’s stomach, forcing him to step back. “The High Sorcerer works for all Daramons,” the first man said. “If I were you, I wouldn’t question his decisions.” Now he struck Grau in the side with the rifle.

“Sir!” The second man sounded disturbed. “I don’t think we ought to be striking citizens.”

“Bunch of bumpkins out here,” the first man said. “No respect.”

Grau glanced around with a wild spark in his eyes and spread his hands. The pile of hay exploded into a whirl of strands, obscuring her vision. The men coughed and choked, covering their faces against the assault of hay. The smell of mold must have been awful.

Grau swept an arm around her waist and pulled them both up onto Fern’s back. He led the horse out the barn door and then spurred her to a gallop. Velsa was slung across Grau, her legs dangling over the side, but once they were moving he helped her into into her usual position.

Behind them, the three men emerged, shouting curses.

A shot whizzed through the rain, just past Grau. He leaned forward to lower his profile, holding her tight as if he needed to protect her, but he was in more danger than she was.

Another shot, and Fern reared back and let out a whinny of distress. Grau dug in, clutching the reins and Velsa tight. “Those bastards!”

No—no!
Velsa couldn’t bear that sweet Fern would be hurt…and worse might follow. The men were angry now and at least one of them had an eye on her. This could easily be the night when she was kidnapped, the night she lost the precious, fleeting life she had gained.

Fern, please. Please.
She wrapped her arms around the horse’s neck, such desperation pouring out of her that she felt hot and dizzy. A sensation washed over her, almost like hot water poured over her head—or inside her head?

Somehow, Fern resumed her gallop.

Velsa kept her head bowed low. She didn’t dare move, as if she had placed her own strength into Fern.

The distance between the horse and the three men grew wider. A few more shots fired, but they didn’t reach. Fern’s hooves pounded the path until they were safe enough—for now.

The sun was sinking below the horizon now, casting the sky in shades of pink and orange. It would soon be dark.

Grau slowed Fern to a walk. “We’d better stop a moment to see if Fern is hurt.”

He dismounted and immediately had a look of consternation. “Here it is,” he said. “Right in the ass! Poor girl. But she doesn’t seem to be in pain anymore…” He opened his bag and got the healing balm for her wound.

He looked at Velsa.

“I—I don’t understand,” she said.

“Your telepathy,” he said. “It breached the golden band. You were in such a panic that your power surged, so you could calm Fern and ease her pain.”

“I couldn’t,” Velsa said, but hope fluttered in her chest. Power. He was saying she had power.

“You could.” He spoke gravely, twisting the cap back on the healing balm. “You must not tell anyone this happened. People would be afraid of you.”

“I saved us,” Velsa said, lifting her fingers to the band.

“Yes, you did,” he said. “Thank the fates for that. But a telepathic Fanarlem would still not be welcomed.”

“The Halnari are welcomed,” Velsa said. “They have telepathy.”

But she already knew what he would say.

“They are loyal allies to Atlantis and Nalim Ima,” Grau said. “Fanarlem aren’t supposed to have power.” He rubbed his forehead. “I’m sorry. We’d better keep moving. I don’t know where else we could find shelter, so we’ll have to keep going as long as we can.”

T
hey reached
Grau’s home late the next day, after a miserable stretch of the journey. They had slept briefly in a shed for a few hours before sunrise, Grau shivering all night long although he was wrapped tight in blankets with her body in his arms. Rain had moved in not long after, and their clothes were sopping wet, penetrating her skin. If she was soaked through to the stuffing, she would be rendered almost immobile until she dried out. Luckily, it never went that far. Grau rushed them into the house and straight to the fireplace. It was already burning steadily, but he piled on a few more logs.

A woman hurried into the room to greet them. “Grau! I thought I heard you. Give me a hug.”

“I’m soaked.”

“I don’t care. I haven’t seen you in a month and when you go on patrol, well, what if I never see you again?”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t listen to those stories about the dragons.”

“
Dragons
? I haven’t even heard that. I’m talking about telepathic bandits. Now I have to worry about dragons, too?”

“Ma, this is Velsa.”

“Welcome, Velsa!” she said, brushing off the dragons easily enough. “You are really…quite lovely. I was so worried this would be another time when Grau brings home something really bizarre.”

He looked deeply embarrassed. “I’ve never brought any girl home before!”

“I was talking about that toad thing you had as a pet.”

“You can’t compare Velsa to a toad.”

“Certainly I didn’t mean that Velsa is a toad, but what I will say is simply that your standards of beauty are not always predictable.”

“And besides, it wasn’t a toad thing. It was just a toad. A blue-footed Atlantis marsh toad. They’re very rare and the smartest member of the toad family.” He looked at Velsa apologetically.

“I still don’t really understand what the plan is,” Grau’s mother said. “I show the girl to your quarters, I suppose? It’s a little awkward for me. I don’t have a etiquette book on how to welcome a concubine. I remain skeptical as to whether this was a good idea.”

“Of course it was a good idea,” said a man now entering the room. “We went over this. Every boy wants to sow his oats on the road. It was safe back when I served, but do you want Grau falling into the clutches of some Miralem whore?”

“No, but, he’s responsible for an actual person now.”

“We aren’t responsible for our servants? He’s grown up. He can handle it. She’s a Fanarlem. What is there to worry about? She doesn’t eat. I’m sure she can also help him keep his things in order at camp and—can she cook?”

Grau waved his hand sideways. “Papa, can I talk to you a moment?”

“Anytime. Here, we’ll step out away from the womenfolk.”

They walked out onto the porch. Velsa could see the shape of them through the curtains. Grau was already gesturing a lot.

Grau’s mother looked her over more closely. She had the same intent expression as her son. “I’m sorry about all this. You’re not exactly what I expected. We have two Fanarlem who work for us, and…” She folded her hands into the sleeves of her robe. “Well, I never liked the idea. I don’t think my son should buy a concubine. No offense.”

“No offense taken. I don’t have any choice in the matter,” Velsa said.

“Garen feels this is preferable to leaving Grau to an unmarried life, but I don’t know…” She snapped a look at the men on the porch. Then she leaned in closer. “Has he treated you well?”

“Yes, madam. Very well.”

“Good. I would hope so.” But now the older woman seemed at a loss in speaking to Velsa. “I suppose I might as well show you to his quarters.”

She showed Velsa up the stairs. The house was substantial, about the same size as the House of Perfumed Ribbons. The furnishings didn’t seem too grand, however, just normal wooden benches and tables. The plaster walls were painted with designs that had chipped with time. Rain made the rooms dim and Grau’s mother didn’t light any lamps or candles, so they certainly were not the wealthy people in novels who always had magical lights as bright as day in every room, but perhaps this was for the best. Velsa wasn’t sure she would really want to live someplace ostentatious, undoubtedly with rules to match.

She sniffed the air. It had a damp, cold smell, almost like a cellar. Her clothes were still wet, since she had been led away from the fire, so once his mother left she took off her jacket and boots and climbed under Grau’s blankets.

His desk was cluttered with bottles and bits of branches and leaves and pebbles, sprigs of dried herbs. A shelf held more of the same, plus some tools and small bottles. Evidence of half-finished projects; potion-making, perhaps. From the bed, she could see out the window to an endless sky.

I like him,
she thought. 

She couldn’t imagine what his mother must think. What would she think, if she had a son who brought a concubine home?

But Velsa couldn’t imagine having a son, or a husband, or any family at all. She had always lived in a strange world where family didn’t exist, but everyone else in the House was the same sort of strange. Meeting Grau had brought her out of it, but he couldn’t bring her into his world either. Grau could never think of marrying her even if he fell in love. She would always be an in-between person.

She heard his footsteps on the stairs and sat up, pushing off the covers. She didn’t want him to think she’d been sleeping.

“I apologize,” he said. “I had to explain to my father that you are more of a real girl than he anticipated.”

Her nerves clenched. His father had truly been the one to suggest purchasing her. He must have certain expectations for her.

“I suppose it went as well as could be expected,” Grau continued. “I told them I want you to be treated like any other guest. Let me find you something dry to wear for dinner.”

He brought her a long tunic that belonged to his mother. She was swimming in it, but at least the cut was meant to be loose. She folded some of the excess fabric under the sash to keep the hem off the floor.

Grau had also changed, into a calf-length tunic of dark blue, with the skirts slit into four panels beneath the black sash belt. She had always found this to be a rather dashing style. Once, she had seen sword dancers on the street wearing them, the four panels twirling as they moved through the forms.

A few candles lit the long table, with a spread of rice with smoked fish, stewed vegetables and dark green salad. Now another young man was here, bearing a strong resemblance to Grau—one of the brothers, obviously. A young woman was rushing to the table as well. She was nearly as tall as Grau, and wore a shirt and trousers, which didn’t quite seem to meet with parental approval judging by the frowns of Grau’s father and mother. Her hair was in a coiled braid like a crown around her head, but strands had broken free. 

“You’re late,” the brother said. “So time consuming to put on clean trousers for dinner.”

“Oh, hush.” She plopped into a chair and reached for the wine.

“Velsa, this is my little sister Preya,” Grau said. “And my older brother Agrin. He’s the only one still at home, but not for long.”

“You got the latest circulations in town, didn’t you, Grau?” asked Grau’s father.

“Yes—they’re still in my bag. Should I fetch them?”

“Velsa could get them,” Grau’s father said.

“No, I want her to just relax,” Grau said. “And I’m the one who knows where I put them.”

“I spent two hundred and twenty ilan on her, so I hope you’re planning on having her do something!”

“I’ll be right back,” Grau said irritably. He rushed up the stairs.

His mother gave Velsa a gentle look and then said, “Garen, I know the whole thing was your idea, but I think you’d better stay out of it.”

“It’s a lot of money,” he muttered, spooning sauce onto his rice. He glanced at Velsa when he put the bowl of vegetables aside, and then craned his neck closer. “What’s around your neck? That isn’t a golden band, is it?”

The rest of Grau’s family also looked at her now.

She drew her hands into her lap. This was the first time in days her clothing had even put the band on display. “It is, sir, but—I don’t have any telepathy. I’ve always had this and it blocks my abilities.” Of course, if she really had calmed Fern, this was no longer entirely true.

“What in the seven curses…
Grau
!”

Grau came back with an arm full of bound pamphlets. This had been one of his last stops in town.

“She’s telepathic?” his father cried.

“No. I mean, not really, it’s under control. She has a golden band.”

“But of all the concubines to choose…”

Agrin seemed amused. He said, “Pa, she has a golden band and papers. What else is Grau supposed to say? Maybe she was the best looking girl they had.”

“Don’t they all look the same?” Grau’s father said. “I worry that the time may come when Grau could get in trouble just for having a telepath with him, bands and papers aside. If we go to war, and everyone’s on edge…”

“She isn’t a Miralem,” Grau said. “She’s a Fanarlem. She might become
valuable
. And the Halnari are Miralem too, but they’re our allies. No one seems to mind that they have telepathy.”

“I think Grau’s right,” his mother said. “Lord Jherin always wants loyal telepaths. He pays good money for them. Not that it matters when she has a band.”

“Hrmph.” His father opened a pamphlet to read over his plate. “Maybe. It all makes me nervous until I know which way the wind is blowing.”

Grau’s mother and siblings reached for the rest of the pamphlets. Pages opened all around the table.

“It makes
me
nervous to send Grau to the border with all this tension,” his mother murmured. “Lord Jherin promises so much, but it’s nothing to him if some boys out in the wilderness get sent to the slaughter…”

“It’s just a patrol,” Grau’s father said. “Don’t think too much of a few stories. You have to remember how many miles the border goes on for, and most of the trouble comes from bandits and nomads.”

“Grau said there were dragons!”

“I said there
weren’t
dragons,” Grau said. “Because it’s true. That’s completely absurd.”

“Assumptions like that are how people get killed,” his mother said firmly.

“This reminds me,” Grau said. “Do you know what happened to the Marnow farm, exactly?”

“Tornado,” Agrin said.

“A real tornado?” Grau asked. “Or a magic one?”

“Well, it’s a funny thing about the Marnows,” his father said. “A few months back, I heard, some men came up the river from Atlantis and asked to buy their land and they said no. Then this tornado hits, and now they’ve decided to say yes.”

“So that’s how it is.” Grau gripped his fork. “I knew they wouldn’t sell willingly. I came across some very ill-mannered soldiers in the barn.”

“Don’t worry, the powers that be won’t come this far,” his father said. “Yet, anyway.”

“Still…” Grau poked his salad. His mother briefly stood and filled his glass with wine.

“The marsh goes on and on,” she said. “There will still be plenty left.”

Velsa glanced at Grau with understanding. If there was a place in the world that belonged to her, she would love it too—every inch of it. 

“Hey, Preya,” said Agrin. “Lord Jherin is recruiting women now.”

“For what?” she scoffed. “Having babies?”

“No. Well, maybe, but it says ‘A variety of roles’.”

“Let me see that.” She grabbed the pamphlet.

“
You
are definitely not going to work for Kalan Jherin,” her father said, with the air of a final word. “Your husband is already waiting.”

“My ‘husband’ doesn’t care if I live or die as long as I pop some babies out of my loins.”

“Stars above, Preya, have a little dignity,” her mother said. “He doesn’t know you yet. It’s always the way.”

“I don’t care if he lives or dies either.”

“He’s a very nice young man and the Hohrlens are such a good family. I know you’re excited to live in Atlantis. Aren’t you?”

“I’d like to see Atlantis,” she said, stabbing a carrot. “But not under these circumstances.”

Grau’s mother sighed. “Can we at least try to act the part of a well-bred family at dinner?”

A
fter dinner
, Grau and his family were still discussing politics and war. Velsa didn’t know much about it. Politics did not affect the House. Even if the men went away to fight, soldiers would always have to travel up and down the Atlantis River, and they would always stop in Nisa, and they would always seek out girls. The only way war would change their lives would be if the Miralem fought their way south and conquered the city. Miralem didn’t believe in Fanarlem slavery, and all the girls would be turned out. Inevitably, most of them would have turned to prostitution, which Miralem did not ban.

Grau said, “You could sit by the fire in the parlor, if you like. Plenty of books to read.”

“We could play chatrang,” Preya suggested. Her golden eyes—even more catlike than Grau’s—were bright, but her tone was almost shy.

“Okay.” Velsa didn’t know the game, but she was so surprised that Grau’s sister was willing to offer friendship to a concubine.

Preya put a few fresh logs on the parlor fire and set up a game-board. It was a square grid. Each player had two rows of black and white pieces in little carved shapes such as kings, soldiers, and horses. She explained the rules rather half-heartedly.

“It’s a well-mannered thing to do while you have a conversation,” she said with a shrug. “Unless you want to be like my brothers and get very competitive about it, and have a huge fight about whether you took your hand off of a piece or not, and throw the board off the table.”

“I don’t think I want to do that,” Velsa said.

“Wise choice,” Preya said. “It’ll be nice to have another girl around. I see my brother’s wives fairly often but they’re very…wife-y.”

“I take it you’re not looking forward to being a wife?”

“To say the least,” Preya said. “The future seems more unbearable the closer it gets. Parties and dances and babies? I have no interest in any of that. I mean, babies are cute, but that only goes so far.”