Tyrant Trouble (Mudflat Magic) (25 page)

“Tarvik,
wake up, you useless lump,” she scolded, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him
so hard his head snapped back and forth.

“Don't,
you'll hurt him.”

“Tarvik,
you must wake up,” she wailed. “Please, Tarvik, do hear me, wherever you are!”

For
a moment I thought I saw the muscles in his jaw tighten, but then his head
drooped. I pried away Nance's clawing hands and lowered him back into the
blankets.

“No
use doing any more. All you'll do is bruise him. His mind is going to stay
asleep until the drug wears off and there is nothing more we can do. Come on,
we must so impress these people they don't dare think of searching the temple beyond
the altar room.”

Ober,
Alakar, and a small following of servants and guards entered the temple at our
choice of time and at our command. Score one for us.

While
I murmured memorized chants, my mind worried away at other ideas. If Ober
feared the powers of the Daughter, she would never have plotted against Tarvik.
Therefore, she must fear I had unknown powers. Perhaps she also feared Kovat
would return suddenly. Because she knew he had stopped at the temple to speak
to me, she must be frantic to learn his plans.

On
the chance that she suspected I possessed a magic greater than her own supply
of trickery, I needed to do what I could to keep her believing this.

My
grandmother, may her soul rest in peace, knew odd bits of magic. Among other
things, she could open her fist, turn it palm up, and she appeared to be
holding a small ball of fire. Very impressive for about thirty seconds. She
tried to teach the trick to me but I never mastered it so I don't think it was
a magician's trick, I think it was real magic. Like so many of the residents of
Mudflat, my grandmother had touches of real magic, the kind that's inherited,
not learned. Unfortunately, I hadn't inherited that fire-in-hand bit. It would
have impressed Ober, I bet.

While
I stood motionless and tried to look magical, whatever that looks like, Nance
chanted endlessly, breaking into the ritual words with occasional reassurances.

“The
Daughter has removed from our beloved city the evil presence of the magician of
Thunder as easily as she once removed from our beloved ruler the evil presence
of fever,” she murmured.

Alakar
and Ober glanced at each other. Facing them, I could see their doubts.

When
Nance paused, Ober said, “And what, oh priest of the Daughter, has become of
the ruler's son? Has the Daughter removed him also?”

“Those
whom the Daughter loves will remain ever in her protection,” Nance chanted, and
it pleased me to hear her. I had suffered through enough of her lessons. This
time it was Nance who had memorized what I told her to say.

“Where
is Tarvik?” Ober demanded.

“As
she moves the clouds and frees the sun, so has the Daughter moved the prince
closer to herself so she may even now heal him of some evil spell visited upon
him. As she saved his father, so does she now save the son. When he has
absorbed the power of her healing, he will again be made visible to his devoted
people. Let us together thank the Daughter for her ever watchful care of our
beloved son of Kovat.”

When
Nance said some evil had been directed at Tarvik, Ober did that paler shade of
white thing. She must have figured that if we knew Tarvik had been poisoned, we
might also know the poisoner. I kept my face blank.

Nance
began a chant that was going to last well past my ability to stand silently.
Not bound to do so, I turned and circled the altar, swinging my arms and a lamp
in empty gestures allowing me to move and stretch inside the weight of my robe.
I hoped Ober, too, had passed a sleepless night and would soon decide to return
to the comforts of her room.

As
I turned from the altar, I faced the archway entrance from the temple to
Nance's rooms. The others stood with their backs to the opening, facing the
altar. I bit my lip to hold back a cry of surprise.

In
the shadows, unnoticed by any of them, stood Tarvik. He stood with his feet
apart, his hips forward and his shoulders back, in that slightly slouched
stance I had seen when he faced an opponent on the day of the games, just
before he drew his sword, lunged forward, and attacked. Lucky for somebody that
his sword was back in his room, hanging on the wall. I would have raised a
finger to my lips to warn him, but then I saw I didn't need to.

His
face was hard, his mouth tight with anger, his eyes narrowed. He aimed all his
fury in his glare, staring through the temple gloom at the soft glow of
red-gold hair that framed the pale face of Alakar.

CHAPTER
15

Ober's
voice rose above Nance's chant. “Do you try to tell us the prince is now
invisible? Do you mean you have not seen him and know nothing of where he may
be?”

“The
Daughter of the Sun protects -” Nance began.

“Stop!
I do not care to hear that again. I have asked a direct question of you,
Nance,” Ober cried.

Gotta
say, that brought out a dead silence.

At
the center of the room, directly beneath the hanging lamp, Nance stood with her
arms outstretched, her hair and robes glittering in the flickering light of
candle flames. Facing her were Ober, wrapped in fur, and Alakar, dressed in
velvet, backed by a cluster of Ober's guards. Our own guards waited beyond the
door in the courtyard, which was better all around. They would have fallen on
their faces in terror to hear Ober shout at Kovat's priest in the presence of
the altar.

I
was proud of Nance. She stood motionless and let the echoes of Ober's cry shock
every listener.

Although
they did not belong to the temple of the Daughter, Ober's guards knew Erlan and
his family, and therefore themselves, were under the rule of Kovat. They knew
his faith. Ober might as well have shouted insults at Kovat himself.

Softly
Nance said, “Consort of the younger brother of mighty Kovat, do you question
the knowledge I have been given by the Daughter of the Sun?”

Ober
hesitated. Tight lines pulled at her mouth and eyes. She said, “I do not
question the wisdom of the Daughter. I question only of where the prince may
be, driven as I am by my loyalty to our ruler and his son. If I speak
improperly in the temple, the Daughter must be begged to forgive me. My concern
is for our dear Tarvik.”

Nance
nodded but did not reply. I knew she was thinking through all the possible
questions and answers we had discussed earlier. Apparently she couldn't
remember anything that seemed to answer Ober's words. She began another long
chant from the rituals.

I
turned to look again for Tarvik.

He
was gone.

Joining
Nance in front of the altar, I helped her move and swing about the candles and
added my voice to her chanting. Her hands trembled. If her voice faltered, I'd
have to cover. How long could we continue like that?

A
fist, or perhaps the hilt of a sword, banged on the outer door. Ober and her
party swung around to face the noise. The doors flew open, their weight tearing
at the hinges.

In
the center of the daylit opening stood Tarvik.

I
grabbed the candleholder from Nance before she dropped it. My voice hid her
sudden silence.

I
cried out, “Your faithful servants thank you, kind Daughter, for the care and
return of the son of Kovat.”

The
effort was wasted. No one paid any attention to Nance or me, not even Tarvik.
He walked swiftly into the temple. Behind him followed the temple guards.
Beyond them, in the open gateway to the courtyard, I could see a growing crowd
of Tarvik's castle guards led by Artur.

Tarvik
stopped in front of Ober and planted his feet in that solid stance.

In
a voice as low and quiet as death, he said, “You will leave my city and take
all of your people with you, Ober. I shall allow you to pack what is needed for
your journey homeward, but you must be gone by sunset.”

Ober
rushed toward him with outstretched arms. The fury in his face stopped her.

She
stood in front of him, her hands raised, and attempted to smile. “We were to
winter here until the return of my husband and your father!”

Tarvik
glared at her but said nothing.

Ober
continued, “What will our ruler think on his return if we leave without his
permission?”

His
thoughts crossed his scowling face as he decided what to say. He spoke in a
flat tone that covered anger he could barely control.

“Will
you remain to explain to Kovat that Alakar came to my room last night and mixed
for me with her own hands a drink? Shall I keep for him the locket she wears so
he may see within it the traces of the powder she added to my drink?”

Ober
reached out to him with both hands, as she smiled and tilted her head and gazed
at him from the corners of her half-closed eyes.

Her
voice was all sugar. “It was no more than a love potion. Is it so wrong for my
daughter to desire to win your love and wish to speed the plans for your
marriage?”

Tarvik
said softly, “A strange love potion, Ober, that puts a man into a sleep from
which he cannot wake. It was my fortune that my father warned me of you before
he left, and my fortune that the Daughter of the Sun protected me.”

Her
body went rigid.

Alakar
cried out, “Kovat warned you?”

Ober
glared at her daughter and Alakar covered her face with her hands as though she
expected to be struck.

Tarvik
spun away from them both and hurried out of the temple. His guards remained at
the gate.

Ober's
glare turned on Nance and me.

Okay,
so now she knew why Kovat had sought me out. All her suspicion, hatred and wish
for revenge were there to see. And her fear. She did not know how we had
managed to save Tarvik. Easy to see she was afraid to touch me, not knowing
what magic I had. Even Nance couldn't come up with a chant to match the
situation.

We
watched silently as Ober and her party left the temple.

When
they were gone, Nance whispered, “She was so angry she almost broke her own
spell.”

Knowing
Nance half-believed the tales of sorcerers who controlled monsters, I said,
“What a pity, I had hoped Ober would conjure up a hairy beast with leather
wings.”

“Or
turn into one. Some say the sorcerers are the lifedrainers.”

The
long night's vigil, to mention nothing of being manhandled by the deathwalker,
plus hauling around Tarvik's dead weight, had done me in. I would be glad to
see Ober, Alakar and their guards leave, but all I really wanted to do was shed
my temple robes and collapse on my bed of sheepskins.

In
the late afternoon we watched through a crack in the outer gate as the
procession wound slowly down the hill toward Erlan's lands. They followed the
valley road until they rounded the hill's base and moved out of our sight. Ober
and Alakar sat proudly on their horses, spines stiff, heads high. They wore
heavy cloaks lined with fur and their woven scarves were wrapped around their
heads and pulled forward to hide their faces. Their escort of guards walked in
front and in back of them. At the rear, Ober's servants led several smaller
horses loaded with bundles.

“Hmm,
I do regret that no request was sent to the temple to provide an escort. We
would have been so thrilled to comply,” Nance said and giggled.

“Weird.
Nobody asked about the deathwalker. Maybe they think he stayed behind to spy.”

Nance
and I ate our evening meal. While she stirred our fire in the courtyard I slid
open the bolt on the gate. Then we settled down on a pile of sheepskins and
leaned back against a stone bench, our bare feet outstretched to the flames.
The smoke drifted in the chill air and blended with the late autumn smell of
dry grass.

We
both knew we waited for Tarvik. He wouldn't stay put in the castle surrounded
only by guards and slaves, not now. He wouldn't consider them suitable
listeners and he'd want to know what had happened while he was passed out.

When
the guard at last knocked on the gate, Nance didn't waste breath asking who was
there. She shouted, “Enter, Tarvik.”

He
closed the gate behind himself before joining us. He was wrapped in fur and
wore heavy boots that looked like sheepskin with the skin side out, very warm.
The boy's wardrobe never ceased to impress me. Gee, I hadn't even seen a closet
in his room, so where did he keep the stuff? Maybe Artur did double duty as a
butler and delivered his outfits from a walk-in closet down the hall. I wanted
to ask him but maybe now wasn't the time.

Sitting
down on the ground near us, he stared into the flames.

“It's
no good acting cross,” Nance said. “I suppose you feel very important now that
you have ordered Ober and Alakar out of your city, but you are not Kovat.
Although your guards are undoubtedly amazed by you, Stargazer and I still think
of you as a pampered, stupid boy and a dead weight to carry.”

Tarvik
frowned, started to rise, then settled back down and drew his furs tighter
around himself.

Nance
added, “You must stop drinking anything anyone hands you. And you must eat
less. If you get any heavier, we cannot possibly save you next time.”

“Why
did you save me this time?” he asked, still not looking at us.

“As
for that, I prefer you to rule the city than be ruled by Ober. How did you know
about Alakar's locket?”

Tarvik
watched the fire to avoid meeting our stares. “Alakar came to my room and said
she wished to speak alone with me. She has never done that before. I was
surprised but I had no reason to refuse her.”

“No,
no, that would be beyond rude,” Nance chided.

“And
why should I be rude to Alakar? She was courteous to me, which is more than I
receive from you. And so she entered and we spoke.”