Agnith's Promise: The Vildecaz Talents, Book 3 (2 page)

“If he remembers,” murmured Erianthee.

“Yes – if he remembers,” the Emperor repeated. “It was a dreadful time, and I will do everything in my power to keep anything like them from coming upon us ever again.”

“Most commendable,” said Erianthee, and summoned up all her diplomatic skills to continue.
“I would support all you do, but my talent, alas, will not bend to your order. Much as I would like to obey you, in this instance I cannot. I apologize for being unable to fulfill your command, yet I must, or offend you further.”

“You are a most determined young woman,” said Riast with a sigh.
“I had hoped not to do this, but you leave me no other choice.” He spoke a little louder. “I regret that I am unable to dismiss you from your service here. Until you can perform such a Shadowshow as I require, I fear I must detain you here in Tiumboj Castle. You know far too much of my current plans to allow you to expose yourself to my enemies. They would do worse than hold you as a guest – “

”Hostage,” she corrected without apology.

“That is such a blunt word, Duzeon, and such a harsh concept,” he said with a condescending smile. “Not hostage, surely, for you have the means of your own deliverance within you. I would rather say that you are my appreciated guest, and that for the sake of your talent, I have asked you to remain where you can be guarded from those who might otherwise harm you.”

“Not a hostage,” she corrected, “a prisoner.”

“Nothing so uncharitable,” Riast said. “I know you would rather not be compelled to perform, but when I weigh one young woman against the safety of all the Porzalk Empire, I have to align myself with the Empire.”

“To which Vildecaz does not belong,” she said, her temper rising in spite of all her good intentions.

“More’s the pity,” he said. “Vildecaz must fend for itself in these hard times. Under other circumstances, I could offer you protection.”

“As it has before, Vildecaz will get by,” she said curtly.

“You and I surely hope so. Yet I must suppose the conjure-storm reached Vildecaz. If it did – high winds being what they are - it would do damage, although it must have been near spent. It wrecked most of its force on Tiumboj, or so we must hope. For the sake of your people and your Duzky, don’t you agree that your talents could be well-spent helping me to identify those who sent such destruction? If not an alliance, we have a shared interest in this.”

She knew she was being manipulated.
This didn’t surprise her, but it did make her wary. She folded her arms. “Emperor, you are a man of dedication and prudence, but in this, I believe you are making a mistake. You are searching for a remedy that I can’t provide. If I were convinced that assisting you could bring about relief for any in Vildecaz harmed by the conjure-storm before it blew itself out, I would do so, but not for revenge, for the common cause we would share. And my efforts would not include an attempt at a prophetic Shadowshow, or one that would show you who your enemies are.”

A discreet cough from one of the Imperial Guards demanded attention.
Riast and Erianthee turned to see the Dowager Empress Godrienee approaching, her clothes as smirched as Erianthee’s, but without any sign of loss of dignity or authority.

“You said you wouldn’t pester the Duzeon, Riast.
Yet here you are, no doubt prompting her.” Godrienee’s tone was subdued and her voice low, but there was no mistaking her expression or her intention to be heard.

“I don’t like having to do this,” Riast said, becoming justificatory.
“You know something must be done, and done soon, or there may be more magical tempests unloosed upon us.”

“There may,” said Godrienee.
“But not immediately. The Great World cannot sustain conjure-storms for very long, or very often. If our enemies are to strike again, they will have to do it by other means, and you have several magicians who can set up protections against another surprise.” She stood next to Erianthee. “Don’t be bullied, Duzeon. You’ve done a great deal for my son already.”

“Yes, she has,” said Riast.
“Which is why I am depending upon her now to do this other task for me.”

“No matter how exhausting it is,” said Godrienee.

“We’re all exhausted,” said Riast.

“All the more reason not to push for results, which are likely to be faulty. You know the limits of such talents as Erianthee possesses, and the folly of compelling a result from the Spirits of the Outer Air.” She took Erianthee’s hand. “I also surmise that you would feel . . . shall we say unhappy? if your Shadowshow revealed those close to my son among the conspirators.”

Riast flung up one hand impatiently.
“Exactly my reason for asking her help. No courtier – magician or not – will tell me that someone close to me is plotting against me. The Duzeon has the talent and she has the advantage of not being of the Court, and so can – “

Godrienee utter a single, impatient laugh.
“You don’t really believe that, do you? She, of all your guests, has the least assurance of immunity, because she is an outsider. There is every chance that you would turn on her for telling you something you didn’t want to hear, which you could do with impunity. Various powerful members of the Court might do as much in your stead. Think, my son, of the peril you’re trying to place her in, and curb your demands.”

Relief coursed through Erianthee to be followed at once by renewed worry.
The Dowager Empress was right. She had voiced Erianthee’s concerns with a concision that Erianthee hadn’t been able to achieve. “Empress,” the Duzeon said hesitantly, disliking the prospect of arguing with both the Emperor and his mother. “I am sorry I can’t comply with – “

”There is no cause for you to be sorry,” said Godrienee.
“You’ve done the right thing by refusing to give into his demands. If anyone should be sorry, it’s he.” She turned on her son once more. “I am giving Erianthee my protection, and for as long as she remains at Tiumboj Castle, you will not threaten her again.”

Riast shook his head several times.
“I don’t know what else to do, Mother. How am I to bring the Empire to strength and peace while my enemies can operate freely, secure in the knowledge that they are unknown and undiscovered? If you can think of something as reliable as the Shadowshows Duzeon Erianthee can conjure, I wish you would apprize me of it.”

“What you say may be true, and it is possible that no one presently at Court has any talent to get you the intelligence you seek,” said Godrienee, “but there must be other means to get the information you need without harassing Erianthee.”
She held up her hand. “No more now, Riast. There’s too much to attend to already. Don’t increase your own burdens while there is so much to do.” She tugged on Erianthee’s hand, prepared to lead her away from the Imperial Hall. “Come, Duzeon. My quarters are almost intact. We’ll have something to eat – real food, not magical – and then we’ll discuss what you are and are not prepared to do to help the Emperor.” She shot a last look at her son as she and Erianthee picked their way through the rubble, out of the Imperial Hall. “Don’t fret,” the Dowager Empress went on as they hastened along the corridor, “he’ll come to his senses soon enough.”

“So I hope,” said Erianthee even as she wondered if she had actually gained a protector, or if the confrontation she had just witnessed was as much a performance as one of her Shadowshows.

* * *

“The animals are getting fidgety,” said Doms Guyon as he paced around the confines of the travelers’ hut.

“So I see,” Ninianee said, stopping her preparation of their supper to watch him.

“Two days standing in a stall when each of them is used to covering distance every day . . . There’s no room to exercise them in the snow and now that they are rested, they’re getting bored and restless . . . ”
He let his words trail off. “I don’t know what I can do, short of bringing them in here and encouraging them to move about.”

“They couldn’t fit through the door,” she pointed out.
Privately she shared the restlessness of the mules and ponies, but she couldn’t give Doms the satisfaction of admitting it. He had been right about too much, and she hated the burden that gratitude imposed upon her. With all he had done for her, how could she refuse him anything? That understanding bothered her more than their isolation or the drouches hiding in the near-by woods.

“They’ll need to do something,” he insisted.
“They’re all getting stall-sour.”

“What might that be?
We’re snowed in. With drouches about, we can’t turn them out into the paddock, even if we could get the door open. I can try to calm them, if you like.”

He halted in the center of the room.
“We’ll need more logs by tomorrow night. I suppose we’ll have to find some way to get outside and take the wood from what’s piled at the side of the hut – assuming it isn’t covered by snow.”

“So we will.”
She gave the sausage-and-sea-grass soup a stir with the one spoon she had put in the chest, thinking as she did that their animals weren’t the only ones fretting at confinement. “But keep in mind while you’re hunting those branches, the drouches may be back. They smell living flesh in this hut, ours and the animals’.”

He nodded.
“I heard them wrawling this morning. They sounded fairly near, I’ll admit. The mules are more worried about them than the ponies are.” Then he knelt down beside the bench were she sat before the cooking-pot over the fire. “Two days and nights completely alone with you, though, that’s a precious privilege. I am glad that chance brought us here and the snow kept us in. That’s almost worth fighting drouches, or freezing. You’re much more valuable than any danger, you know.” His icy eyes were hot as the blue heart of a flame.

“Don’t say that, and don’t flatter me,” she said without amusement.
“Drouches would rend us limb from limb if they had the chance. And if we freeze, my father won’t be found.”

“Then better we stay in and hope tomorrow the weather warms enough that we can leave, otherwise we’ll be cold and hungry by the day after.
The day after that would be worse still. So we must make plans to leave.” He touched her face. “You have a journey to complete.”

“Yes,” she said, stirring the pot with more vigor than necessary.

He rose and started pacing again. “I know some spells that might make digging out of this place easier now that there is sunshine again, and the winds have died. They won’t last long, but if we’re ready to leave, we can get the snow in front of the byre door to soften and collapse. If we depart as soon as the spell works, we should be able to get away, providing we can get through the drifts. Luckily there hasn’t been any more snow since the storm rolled in from the south. But it is cold, and much of the snow is coated in ice, and that has made opening that door a task for many more people than Doms, or Doms and Ninianee.” He watched her as he continued to tread the limits of the travelers’ hut.

“As we determined yesterday afternoon,” she said, perplexed that she should find his company so comforting when she knew he might well be amusing himself at her expense, for in spite of all he’d done for her among the Bindomajes, he had also left her without explanation
– it was almost a year ago now, she realized – and didn’t bother to let her know he was in Valdihovee for months. He was too mercurial, she told herself, too aloof. It was folly to depend upon him, no matter how pleasant his company might be. If she decided to trust him it was possible that he would once again vanish without warning.

“You look distracted.
What’s on your mind?” He came up to her again.

She said the first thing that came to her.
“I’m glad the moon isn’t full.”

He chuckled.
“Truly. Who knows what kind of creature I would have to contend with? They can’t all be as pleasant as the Crag-lion. But you can’t tell me in advance, can you?”

“No,” she said morosely, already anticipating her next Change.

He saw that she was upset, and so he went to her again. “You can Change into anything, and it will not alter my feeling, Ninianee. Nothing you could do will – “

”Change you?”
she suggested. “What are you hoping for – my gratitude? You have as much of it as I am likely to give.” For the first time in two days, she felt exhilaration enlivening her – wrangling with him was driving away her morose thoughts. “I am not a contented person, and you cannot make me so. Do you think to turn me compliant by your promise to protect me? Do you suppose that I will succumb to you because of your – “

”I don’t expect you to be anything other than who you are.”
He touched her face again, to turn her eyes up to his. “If you stopped being feral and contentious, then I might question my allegiance to you. But you, as you are now – you are what I want. And I know – much as you may wish it weren’t so – that I am what you want.”

She studied him in silence, then said, “You’d best fetch your bowl.
This stew is almost ready – such as it is.”

“I’ll do that
– right after I put more wood on the fire. It’s getting chilly again, and I want to keep the cold from coming down the chimney. We’ll have to keep the fire going to do that.” He went to the wood-tub, calculating the number of cut logs and branches they would need to get them through the night. “We could cast a warming-spell tomorrow morning,” he suggested.