Artifacts Of Power - Dhiammara Part 15

The Mage could read the other thought in her mind, the one she had not spoken aloud, as clearly as if it were written on her face. And if I kiU myself, D'arvan mil be free. Striving not to panic, knowing that his next words would decide the matter and desperate to convince her, he reached out and took her hands in his own. "Maya," he said gently, "try not to be hasty. Just listen with an open mind to what I have to say. . . . I've spent a long and wearisome day wrangling with my father over this matter. He's more stubborn than the most mule-headed Mage, but I finally managed to wring some concessions from him-so long as the two of us consent to stay."

"This had better be good," Maya growled.

"It's better than nothing-which was what he originally offered me." D'arvan squeezed her hands tightly. "I wanted him to liberate the Nexians, but he refused outright. He will, however, release Parric and Vannor to go back and help Aurian ... if I can manage to free Vannor from his evil trance, that is."

"Is that all?" Maya bristled. "I can't say I'm very impressed so far, with your father's magnanimity."

D'arvan, however, looked across at Parric and saw his eyes burning with a fierce, joyous, desperate light. Too proud to plead, too levelheaded to influence the discussion with an emotional appeal, the Cavalrymaster was rigid with the effort to keep silent-but his heart was in his eyes.

"There's more," D'arvan told Maya hastily. "Again, I wanted h.e.l.lorin to let the Xandim return to human form-but there was no chance of that. Frankly, he'd rather lose the Nexians.

2 Z ZMa gg i e F u r ey He said, however, that he would agree to disenchant Chiamh and Schiannath, and let them return with Parric."

"My, how generous," Maya said bitterly. "And dare I ask what your father wants in return for these great favors? Am I to remain a slave for the rest of my life? There's something you're not telling me-I know it."

"Well, he says he'll remove your chain eventually"-D'arvan prudently stepped back out of striking range-"as soon as we produce a son together."

"He what?" Unexpectedly, Maya burst out laughing, but D'arvan could sense that her control was very close to the edge. "Why?" she demanded. "What in the name of perdition does an immortal, all-powerful magical being want with a b.l.o.o.d.y heir?"

"He wants to extend his realm."

Maya's laughter ceased abruptly.

"h.e.l.lorin wants the Phaerie to rule the entire northern continent," D'arvan went on into the ensuing silence. "He wants scions of his own blood to wield power in his name in various regions-that way he feels he'll have better control over the fractious Mortals."

Narrow-eyed, Parric looked at the Mage with suspicion and undisguised hostility. "And just where do you fit into this grand scheme?" he asked coldly.

D'arvan sighed. He had been dreading this moment. "He wants me to rule Nexis," he answered quietly.

Parric kicked the wall of the shelter as hard as he dared with his bare toes. "That traitor! That thrice-d.a.m.ned backstabbing chickenhearted turncoat! I might have known we couldn't trust a b.l.o.o.d.y Mage!"

"For the last time, Panic-will you shut up?" Maya snarled. "If you hadn't created such an uproar and brought the guards down on us, you fool, we'd have had a chance to discuss it with him."

"What's to discuss? At heart he's nothing but another power-hungry tyrant-just like the rest of his ilk."

"Like Aurian, you mean?" For a moment Maya actually thought he would strike her. She had never seen such rage on Panic's face. But though she had felt equally betrayed by D'arvan when he had broken the news to her, she now felt a perverse need to defend her lover in the face of Panic's virulent attack.

Dh t a m m 223.

Controlling himself with difficulty, the Cavalrymaster turned away in disgust. "How can you stand there and say that?" he asked in tones of biting contempt. "Unlike your precious Phaerie stud, I never saw Aurian try to enslave an entire race.

"It wasn't his idea!" Maya shouted. "You heard what he said-h.e.l.lorin will enslave us anyway! D'arvan was trying to give us a chance...." Her voice trailed away into silence as she was struck by the inadvertent truth of her own words.

Licia, an unwilling spectator to the quarrel, seized the moment. "Panic, I want you to leave, please. Now. You can continue your discussion later, when tempers have cooled."

"Gladly. I've had enough of listening to this Phaerie-loving garbage in any case." With one last venomous glare at Maya, Parric stamped out of the shelter, muttering imprecations and pus.h.i.+ng his way roughly through the knot of curious bystanders who had gathered near the door.

Maya stood like a statue in the center of the room, one hand lifted to her lips, her eyes turned inward, blind to her surroundings. "D'arvan is our only chance," she murmured softly. "Our one slim chance to beat h.e.l.lorin at his own game . . ." So deep in thought was she that she barely noticed when the lacemaker tiptoed out.

"Please ... I must see Lord D'arvan." Maya tried to conceal her annoyance as the guards at the gate looked down their noses at her. Try to look respectful, at least-for your own sake, she told herself. She had by no means forgotten the blow they had given her earlier.

"Ah, Lord D'arvan's little lapdog," the female guard sneered. "Mortal, you seem to have forgotten your place. You may be a.s.sured that when Lord D'arvan wants to see you, he will send for you."

"But..."

"You dare dispute with me, Mortal?" The guard's eyes glinted with anger. She made a complex gesture-and the warrior suddenly found herself lapped around from head to foot in the clinging briars of a th.o.r.n.y rose. Instantly, the supple green vines tightened around her body, cutting painfully into her limbs and constricting her breathing. As the tendrils tightened further, the long, sharp thorns drove deep into her flesh.

224Mzggie Furey Maya fell writhing to the cavern floor, driving the manifold claws of the rose still deeper beneath her skin. Choking for breath as she was, she could not even scream. Already there was a high-pitched buzzing in her ears and her vision had faded to glittering black. ...

"Curse you, let her go1."

The roar was so loud, so angry, that it penetrated even as far as the deep, dark pit into which Maya was falling. She heard a fierce sizzling sound then a loud crack, like the sound of a spitting spark, followed by a cry of pain. Abruptly, the strangling briars and their piercing thorns were gone, and Maya took a deep draft of sweet, sweet air. With a clang, the gate swung open, and as her vision began to clear she saw D'arvan kneeling over her, his eyes diamond-bright with rage and glittering with unshed tears.

As the Mage scooped her into his arms and bore her from the slave cavern, Maya saw that the female guard lay crumpled against the wall, her face disfigured by a blistered brand as though she had been lashed by a fiery whip.

"Never again," D'arvan snarled. "Never, ever againV He raised his voice. "Hear me, you Phaerie," he grated. "If any one of you ever hurts this woman again-if you so much as look at her harshly, I will slowly burn the flesh from every inch of your vile bones. I am the son of the Forest Lord-you know that I can do this. And for your own sakes, you had best believe that I will."

Maya wanted to tell him how very glad she was to see him, but as yet, she lacked the breath.

When he laid her on the couch in the tower room, Maya gasped in pain as her abraded flesh touched the silken fabric. Her pale skin was mottled with bruises, and each labored breath sc.r.a.ped harshly in her throat. Though D'arvan was no expert at healing, the Lady Eilin had taught him the techniques to suppress pain, stop the bleeding, and seal the flesh of simple wounds. It was not enough, however, to overcome his guilt. As the tension of pain began to smooth itself from Maya's face, he leapt to his feet and started to pace back and forth across the tower room, unable to face the condemnation that would soon appear in her eyes. "I wouldn't blame you for hating me," he told her wretchedly. "It's all my fault. I should never have let them take you back."

"Don't talk so daft, love-we don't have time for that."

Vhiammara 225.

D'arvan spun, an astonished exclamation on his lips, to see Maya holding out a hand to him, an expression of fond exasperation on her face. "Come here and sit down," she told him in a hoa.r.s.e, scratchy voice. "On second thought, bring me a drink-then sit down."

"Now," she said, when he had obeyed her, "let's get this out of the way once and for all. It's not your fault your father treats his slaves this way, and it wasn't your fault that we were taken back to the cavern-it was because that hothead Parric went and lost his temper."

"I should have come for you sooner. ..."

"D'arvan, shut up. It's done now-and at least that guard will think twice in future about mistreating Mortals." Her eyes glinted with malicious glee. "I liked what you did to her face, by the way-I hope it teaches her a lesson." She squeezed his hand tightly. "Anyway, listen. I've been thinking ..."

D'arvan felt a frisson of unease at her words, like a finger of ice trailed down his spine. He knew Maya well, and he could tell from her brisk, businesslike tone that he wasn't going to like this in the least. He looked down into her beloved face, wis.h.i.+ng he could stem the flow of what she was about to say, and knowing already that it would be impossible, and unwise.

Already, Maya was speaking. ". . . Am I right in believing that it takes Phaerie magic to make the Xandim horses fly?"

Surprised by the direction her thoughts were taking, D'arvan nodded. "The magic is in the horses and the Phaerie both. Only together can they fly."

Maya bit her lip and looked away from him, staring out of the window as though fascinated by the reflections of the lamp-lit room against a black background of midnight sky. "Then you can do it," she said at last.

"Do what?"

Maya gripped his fingers tightly, her face aglow with urgency. "D'arvan, go back to h.e.l.lorin and renegotiate. You must return to Aurian, and take Chiamh and Schiannath with you. Flying steeds may give Aurian the edge she lacks."

"Woman, have you lost your mind?" D'arvan exploded. "Were you not listening when I explained? h.e.l.lorin wants me to stay and rule Nexis. I'm his heir, as he calls it-his only son. He'll never let me escape him againV "He will if I stay behind as hostage for your return," Maya argued stubbornly.

226M a. g g i e F u r e y D'arvan scowled at her, both angry and alarmed. "Maya, if you think for one minute that I would be so careless of you as to risk another repet.i.tion of what happened tonight..."

Maya's eyes sparkled with mischief. "But I've thought of a way for h.e.l.lorin to keep his heir and insure my own safety. No one would dare hurt me, D'arvan-not if I carried your child."

Chapter 16 Wyvernesse.

rSow that the river no longer ran as far as Nexis, the Nightrunners had been forced to resort to other means to smuggle their goods in and out of the city. Aurian and her companions left that night concealed, along with various artifacts made by Nexian craftsmen, in a row of gaily painted wagons which, to all intents and purposes, appeared to be a traveling carnival. The Mage had to smile at such a fanciful method of moving illicit goods. Zanna's idea, I'll be bound, she thought.

Such a thing would never have happened during the rule of the Magefolk-in fact this was the first traveling carnival that Aurian had ever seen, though Forral told her he could remember them from his childhood. Miathan, objecting to the wayfarers' light-fingered ways and their light-hearted manner that, by their very presence, spread a general air of restlessness and disaffection among the townsfolk, had forbidden them access to Nexis many decades before. They were a good disguise, though. For one thing, there was 228Maggie Furey something very satisfactory in being able to hide in plain sight like this, and for another, respectable folk tended to give the travelers a wide berth. When not parting them from their coin, wayfarers were generally very private folk, defensive and hostile to strangers and outsiders-often with good reason. Also, they had a reputation for being notorious thieves, so people, quite wisely, approached them with wariness, if at all.

"Stop right there!"

Clearly, the caravan of wagons had reached the city boundaries. The Mage, huddled in the hay-scented darkness of her wagon, crossed her fingers as the wagon came to a juddering halt. Now, if we can only get past these accursed guards, she thought. With her ear pressed to the thick planking, she could hear every word of the conversation that was taking place outside.

There was a squeak of leather as the guard walked over to the wagons. "Who's in charge of this rabble? Identify yourself."

The second voice was rich and mellifluous-and very, very loud. "I sir, am the Great Mandzurano," it declaimed. "/ am the master of this exceptional troupe."

Aurian grinned. She had only met the Great Mandzurano briefly, but she had already discovered that he was a former sailmaker's son from Easthaven, and his name was actually Thalb.u.t.t. She had been surprised to discover that many of the jugglers, acrobats, conjurers and trick-riders came from similar backgrounds, lured by the romance of the wandering life.

Outside the wagon, the guard seemed less than impressed with the carnival folk. "Really?" he said in acid tones. "Well, Master Mandzurano, kindly tell your exceptional troupe to get their a.r.s.es out of those wagons right now. We're looking for the thief that robbed Lord Pendral. Get a move on, there] I've a search to conduct, and I don't have all b.l.o.o.d.y night."

"My good man, are you insinuating ..."

"No-I'm telling you. No respectable folk would feel a pressing need to be leaving the city in the middle of the night. You wayfarers are always up to no good, and tonight is no exception, I'll be bound. Get your rabble out here now-or I'll arrest the lot of you."

In the darkness of the wagon, Aurian smiled to herself. Apparently Mandzurano had a particularly aggravating effect on persons in authority. It was good to have something to smile about, she thought ruefully. It was suffocatingly hot and desperately cramped in her hiding place, crammed in as she Vhia.mma.ra.

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was in the darkness together with Hargorn and all of her companions, including the little thief she had rescued the previous night. If they managed to get out of the city, however, all the discomfort would be well worthwhile. They would soon find out.

"Come on, you lot. Everybody out!" The guards were walking along the wagons, clouting the wooden sides with their sword hilts. Aurian could hear a ragged chorus of complaints and oaths as the carnival folk hauled themselves reluctantly out of their wagons. Angry accusations and outraged protests marked the progress of the search. As the guards drew gradually nearer to her hiding place, Aurian clenched her fists tightly around the hilt of her sword, unable to bear the agonizing tension of this wait.

The guard had reached her wagon. The Mage could hear his voice directly outside. "And what's in here, that you've got it locked up so tight? Come on, let's have it open!"

"Please, sir-do not open that door if you value your life," Mandzurano was protesting. "There are dangerous wild beasts within!"

"Dangerous wild beasts, indeed! Pull the other one, Master. As if some ragged-a.r.s.ed bunch of traveling vagabonds would have real wild beasts ..."

Within the wagon, s.h.i.+a and Khanu waited until the man's hand was actually on the latch. As he began to pull back the bolt, they broke into a deafening cacophony of bloodcurdling roars and snarls.

"Thara's t.i.tties!" shrieked the guard. Even above the row, Aurian heard the bolt go cras.h.i.+ng back into its socket. As the wagons moved on again, she buried her face in her sleeve and shook with laughter.

Aurian was wakened by the noon sun in her eyes, s.h.i.+ning through the open doorway of a small and gaily striped tent. She felt wonderfully snug and relaxed in her coc.o.o.n of blankets, warmed by the two guardian cats who slept on either side of her. In the background she could hear the soothing burble of a stream mingled with a murmur of low voices and the sharp crackle of burning twigs. The glorious piercing song of a skylark rained down like a shower of silver from far above her head. The Mage felt her spirits rise with the sound. How good it was, to be back in the living world!

A whiff of frying bacon drove her from her blankets, and 2 3 0M a. g g t e F u r e y as Aurian emerged into the open she was struck by the chill of the moorland air. It might be late summer, but there was no warmth at all in these northern uplands, not even in the midday sun. The camping place was in the bottom of a secret dell, formed and sheltered by three swelling green hills, with a stream for water and thickets of bramble, gorse, and whin to provide fuel, swift-burning though it be-enough for a small cookfire, at least. The colorful wagons had been drawn together in a sheltering semicircle near the banks of the stream. The horses, almost as colorful as the wagons, being mainly piebald, skewbald, or spotted, were picketed nearby.

Most of the carnival folk were up and about, moving drowsily from tent to wagon in what was clearly a regular routine, as the striped canvas shelters were struck with the swift ease of long practice. The Mage hid her cold hands in her sleeves and looked around for her companions. Grince was nowhere in sight but Finbarr-or rather, the Wraith that was occupying Finbarr's body-she spotted immediately, sitting huddled in the lee of a wagon, his cloak wrapped tightly around him. Though its borrowed corporeal sh.e.l.l could be nourished in the normal way, Aurian wondered, with a pang of disquiet, how soon the creature itself would need to feed, now that she had taken it out of time.

Beyond the wagons, Forral was exercising Anvar's body, sparring with a wiry young carnival lad using wooden staves. Aurian turned away and went to the fire, where Hargorn and the Great Mandzurano were engaged in the homely task of frying bacon.

"Aurian, lovey." As Hargorn rose to greet her, Aurian noticed how happy he looked to be out of the city, out of retirement, and back to a soldier's outdoor life again. "Sleep well?" he asked her. "There's some taillin in the pot there, by the fire's edge."

"Thanks, Hargorn." The Mage poured taillin into a tin mug and cupped her hands around it, appreciating the -warmth that leaked into her frozen fingers. "I slept wonderfully well- surprisingly well, in fact. I think it was pure relief at getting out of Nexis-the city has turned into an evil place since ! was last there." She shook her head. "I could feel it in the air the whole time: the sense that dreadful things have already happened-and far worse is yet to come."

Hargorn, his grey hair bound back in the neat tail he had always worn as a warrior, handed her a tin plate laden with Dh i a m m a. r a.

23 1.

bacon fried crisp and a large, soft hunk of bread. "I couldn't agree more. I didn't even realize how bad it had become until I left last night. It felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off me." He shook his head. "I'd as soon sell the Unicorn and get right out of the place, but ! worry about Hebba. I know she would never leave Nexis again."

Forral joined them, his face gleaming with a sheen of sweat and his chest heaving. "Out of condition," he panted.

Aurian put down her plate. "Anvar was a Mage, not a warrior," she said shortly. "Have a care you don't do yourself some permanent damage . . ." she swallowed what she had been about to say, but her unspoken words hung in the air between them as though illuminated in letters of fire: because it's Anvar's body, and someday he may take it back.

Hargorn broke into the strained silence. "Now then, what do you say to us getting on our way? Now we're safely out of Nexis, Thalb.u.t.t-sorry, Mandzurano-can give us horses and we can travel to Wyvernesse far quicker than the caravan."

"Sounds good to me." Aurian scrambled to her feet. "Has anyone seen Grince this morning?"

Hargorn and Aurian finally ran the thief to ground in one of the wagons. His skilled fingers had located the catch for one of the secret compartments that the smugglers used, and he was now prying into a variety of boxes and bales that had been sneaked out of Nexis under the very eyes of the guards.

"Grince!" thundered the Mage. "What do you think you're doing?"

Grince started violently, then turned around with a broad smile and a carefully studied air of nonchalance. "Just looking." He shrugged. "My compliments, Master Mandzurano. You wayfarers are very clever folk. Who would have thought that all this could be hidden in an innocent-looking wagon?"

Mandzurano preened himself. "The guards are looking for items pilfered from townsfolk, you see, not contraband. .. ."

Aurian, however, went on looking severely at Grince, until he began to fidget uncomfortably beneath her relentless gaze. "We don't steal from our friends," she said.

Grince leapt to his feet. Digging deep in his pockets, he hurled a handful of small items to the wagon's wooden floor. "I don't have any friends." He pushed past her, jumped to the ground, and ran.

Stooping, Aurian sifted through the scattered objets-a pathetic collection of painted trinkets, cheap copper brooches, 252Ma. gg i e F u r e y and carved wooden combs. "There wasn't even anything of value here." Looking in the direction Grince had fled, she shook her head sadly.

Hidden from curious eyes among the rolling swells of the northern moorland, the small group of travelers made their way swiftly eastward. For Grince, who had never ridden a horse before, the journey was an experience he could well have done without. There was no time for him to learn horsemans.h.i.+p-all he could do was to cling to the saddle and b.u.mp painfully along, while one of the others took his reins and led him as though he were a small child. It was utterly humiliating-but had only his pride been hurt, Grince could have put up with it. The aches and bruises, however, were a far more serious matter. During the first day he must have fallen off a dozen times at least-and on one unforgettable occasion, the horse tossed him right into a bramble thicket.

"Serves him right," Hargorn had muttered as the Mage struggled to disentangle the cursing, yelping thief from the mesh of th.o.r.n.y briars. The veteran had still not forgiven Grince for attempting to steal from the smugglers. "Maybe that'll make up for the thras.h.i.+ng you wouldn't let me give him, Aurian."

Nursing his hurts and scratches, Grince glowered at the veteran who was riding up ahead and hauling him along as though towing a cart. The horse didn't like such treatment either, Grince could tell from its laid-back ears and the direful expression in its rolling eyes. The minute Hargorn lets go of those reins, he thought ruefully, with a sinking sense of the inevitable, this accursed creature will fling me off its back again-and I'll have even more bruises to add to those it's given me already.

Much to Grince's dismay, they rode on well into the night, navigating by the stars and seeing their way by the merest sliver of moonlight. Aurian, with her Mage's vision, rode ahead to pick out the easiest path. The two cats, who tended to scare the horses if they came too close, flanked the procession well out on either side. The thief was so exhausted that despite his hurts he fell into a half-doze, half-reverie as the miles pa.s.sed by. His mind went back to earlier that day, when he had run from the smugglers' camp.

Having more sense than to lose himself in the bleak, trackless wilderness, Grince had followed the course of the stream Dh i 3. m m a. r 233.

up between the hills, until all sight and sound of the encampment had vanished. d.a.m.n them! He hurled a stone into the stream with all the force he could muster. Why had he left the city with these cold-eyed, hard-faced strangers? He could have dodged that a.s.s Pendral's guards with both eyes shut and one hand tied behind him! In the end the High Lord would have forgotten . ..