Fire of the Soul (19 page)

In late afternoon Calia stood with Durand in
the central room, looking out at the cultivated land. Her practiced
gaze recognized several kinds of grain in the fields, a large apple
orchard, even a small vineyard.

“Those farms are protected from the fierce
sea winds,” Durand said when she remarked on crops she wouldn’t
have expected to find growing so far north. “The soil near
volcanoes is always remarkably fertile. The growing season is
short, but as you can see, the Chandelari make the most of an ample
water supply and of the long days of midsummer.”

“And also of the hot springs,” Calia added.
“What luxury to discover all the hot water we wanted in the bathing
rooms below the palace. No need to take turns in each other’s
leftover bath water.”

“Another benefit of the volcanoes,” Durand
said with a smile. “We all look – and smell – much nicer than we
did on the ship. These people are generous hosts. Even the horses
have been unloaded from the ship and turned out to exercise in a
nearby meadow. And Captain Pyrsig was invited to join us for the
feast this evening, though he insisted upon staying aboard
The
Kantian Queen
to see to some repairs.”

At that moment Lord Alwan arrived to conduct
the guests to the public rooms on the ground level. The reception
room and the feasting hall were both open to a sheltered terrace on
one long side, which allowed everyone to appreciate the palace
garden and the view of the mountains.

But first, they met Lord Toren. The nominal
ruler of Chandelar was an elected tribal chieftain, short and
muscular, with hair the color of ashes, and pale blue eyes. His
narrow golden diadem sparkled with rubies and sapphires, as did a
single heavy gold ring on his left hand.

Toren was polite, but he did not speak much,
despite Lady Elgida’s efforts at conversation. Calia soon decided
that Toren was much like the warriors she had known in her youth at
Catherstone, who were men of action and weapons, but not talkative
courtiers, and most definitely not diplomats.

That position was left to the Great Mage
Ultan, who entered the reception room in a swirl of gold and silver
robes that enhanced his tall, imposing form and his thick white
hair. Ultan’s every movement radiated the Power that Calia had
expected to find in the leader of the mages of the known world.
Ultan’s staff, like the staffs of all mages everywhere, was made of
plain burnished wood, but this staff was topped with the symbol of
his status, a golden star set with rubies and sapphires. The rings
on both his hands also shone with rubies and sapphires.

Calia looked closely, surprised to see no
emeralds on Ultan’s person, or on Toren or his quiet, self-effacing
wife. Everyone knew the tale of the Great Emerald that had been
stolen from Chandelar long before the place became a real nation
with a government and settled habitations, and most people were
aware that Chandelar was the source of the world’s emeralds.
Perhaps, Calia thought as they were led into the feasting hall, the
rulers of Chandelar held some aversion to wearing jewels like the
famous stolen one.

The banqueting table was actually two tables
that, if they had been placed together would have formed a hollow
circle, with the guests sitting around the outside. But the ends of
the tables were set slightly apart so the servants could get into
the middle to present the various dishes, and so the entertainers
could be seen and heard by all.

The food was baked fish, stewed root
vegetables, tarts made from dried fruits that had been soaked in a
fiery liquor, and early, fresh berries that were served on silver
trays as if they were precious jewels to be eaten plain, with the
fingers. The entertainment consisted of a few songs and a wrestling
match.

The entire feast was completely outside
anything in Calia’s previous experience. She, Mairne, and Anders
were seated at what was apparently the lower table, with Garit,
Lady Elgida, and Durand all flanking Lord Toren, his wife, and the
Great Mage Ultan at the other half of the circle. Calia didn’t mind
her placement a bit. She wouldn’t have to deal with Garit’s
affection that she dared not return, or with Durand’s attempts to
gain information from her. Instead, for once she could relax and
enjoy her surroundings.

The young men who sat on either side of her
were full of questions about the world beyond Chandelar. The women
were curious about styles in clothing or hairdressing and eager for
any gossip about the king of Sapaudia and his beautiful queen. That
subject, upon which Calia professed complete ignorance, led to
questions about the Dominion and the military intentions of Domini
Gundiac – and, inevitably, to questions about Gundiac’s health now
that the Great Emerald had been stolen.

“I didn’t know the Emerald was stolen, and I
am surprised to learn the news has traveled so far so fast when we
at Saumar hadn’t heard of the theft,” Calia said. “I have never
been to the Sapaudian court, so I can be of no help to you on the
subject of King Henryk and Queen Hannorah. What is it?” she asked,
as the young man on her right looked hard at her.

“Why do you hide the Power?” he asked. “It is
your duty to develop it to the fullest extent possible.”

“Where I spent my childhood,” she answered,
choosing her words with care, “the Power was seen as a threat.”

“A threat to whom?”

The question came at her fast as the swiftest
arrow shot by an expert bowman, and Calia discovered that she could
not evade an answer. She did wonder if the innocent appearance of
her dinner companion concealed a Power that he was employing on
her. Still, she responded honestly.

“My father and my brother both corrupted
their Power,” she said. “Fortunately for me, they ignored me. I
think that was because my nurse had taught me at a very young age
how to conceal what small Power I possess, so I kept the truth
hidden from the men I feared.”

“Do you still fear them?” The young man’s
gaze became even more inquisitive.

“My father is dead and my brother is far
away.” That was true, though her brother would not be far from her
for much longer. “I also spent a few years at Talier Beguinage,
where I learned the safest ways to conceal my Power and how to use
it, though I never do.”

“You could stay here, in Tannaris,” the young
man said. “You could be trained as a mage. If you wish, I’ll speak
to Ultan and recommend you to him.”

“Thank you for the offer, but I cannot
remain. My place is with Lady Elgida.”

“Your duty is to develop your Power,” he
insisted, though with a kindly smile that made her smile in
return.

“I cannot,” she repeated.

He shook his head in regret and excused
himself. Calia never learned his name, nor did she see him again,
though she suspected him of reporting their conversation to the
Great Mage Ultan, for the following morning she received a summons
to meet with Ultan.

“Whatever for?” Lady Elgida demanded.

“I don’t know, my lady, but I can scarcely
refuse him, can I?”

“Ultan wants to speak with you alone?”

“That’s what the messenger said. I must go at
once; he’s waiting to escort me.”

“How very odd.” Lady Elgida shook her head in
vexation. “Well, Mairne, you will have to keep me company this
morning.
I
have been invited to visit Lord Toren’s wife in
her private chambers.”

The messenger from Ultan, a boy about ten
years old, who said his name was Finen, led Calia out of the palace
by a side door and into a smaller building.

“This is the Great Mage’s private reception
room,” Finen said. “Please wait here.”

Calia ventured a few steps into the room
before she stopped short, staring in wonder.

Dark, glossy stone walls curved upward to a
rounded ceiling that was inlaid with silver stars, all arranged in
their proper positions. Calia recognized the hunter with his bow,
the queen upon her throne, the great snake who was so long that his
body encircled the sky until he curved back upon himself and held
his tail in his own mouth. There, in the midst of the figures, was
the great tree of knowledge with all its starry ornaments.

And there, advancing on her with stately
tread across the shining black floor, was the Great Mage Ultan
himself.

“Welcome, Calia.”

“My lord.” She sank into a deep curtsey,
keeping her head bowed until his hand, aged yet strong, lifted her
to a standing position. “Your messenger said you wish to speak with
me.”

“So I do. It’s why I brought your ship here
to Tannaris.” Ultan smiled and Calia’s heart warmed toward him,
even as she understood that he had worked his Power upon her and
her friends. “I wish to make a request of you.”

She knew then that he was going to issue an
order in the same way that Lady Elgida made so-called requests that
could not be ignored or refused.

“I will be happy to help you in any way I
can,” she responded, and meant each word. She had no sense of being
coerced; she simply wanted to please Ultan. Nor did she doubt his
essential goodness. Whatever he was using her for, it was not for
an evil purpose.

“I have been told that you will soon travel
to Kerun City,” Ultan said.

“It’s possible, if Lady Elgida’s grandsons
are not in residence at Kinath,” Calia said.

“You may know that my daughter is wed to King
Dyfrig of Kantia.”

“Queen Laisren, yes.”

“I wish to send her a small gift, and to do
so by the hand of another woman, rather than entrusting it to a
man’s care,” Ultan said. “It’s a delicate thing, and men can be
careless, even when their intentions are the best.”

“I will be honored to deliver any gift that
you wish to send,” Calia murmured.

“Remain here.”

Ultan went through an archway into another
chamber. While she waited for him to return, Calia looked more
closely at the decorations of the reception hall. Her sight had
fully adjusted to the dimness, so she could now make out an etched
design on one wall that clearly represented the six volcanoes that
guarded the bay and the pale buildings of Tannaris. As she slowly
turned, she noticed other designs that she did not recognize,
though she guessed that all of the important cities of the known
world were represented on the wall.

The black and silver beauty of the room and
the stillness of it seeped into her senses, into her innermost
being, strengthening and comforting her in a way that she welcomed,
though she did not understand it.

“Here.” Ultan had returned and was offering
her a small stone box and a square of folded parchment. “I have
included a personal letter to Laisren, which you may place inside
the box, if you will.”

The Great Mage lifted the stone lid. The box
was lined with a soft green fabric. Inside reposed a silver casket
that was perfectly plain, oblong, with a domed top. The smooth
metal gleamed softly in the faint light.

“How lovely,” Calia breathed.

“You appreciate the beauty of simplicity,”
Ultan said. He gave Calia the parchment and she laid it on the
casket, knowing the gesture signified her agreement to obey Ultan.
Then Ultan closed the stone box. His right index finger traced the
line that separated the lid from the body of the box. The line
vanished, leaving the box as a block of solid stone.

“Give the box only into Laisren’s hands, in
private, and tell her that I sent it,” Ultan said. “She will know
how to open it. See that you tell no one but Laisren that you have
it.”

“I will do as you ask,” Calia whispered,
accepting the box with a sense of awe. She found it surprisingly
heavy for its small size.

“My thanks go with you.” Ultan’s finger, the
same digit he had employed to seal the box, traced the shape of a
star on Calia’s forehead.

“Never fear your Power,” he said. “Now go. We
will not meet again during this visit. Captain Pyrsig will want to
sail at dawn tomorrow.”

“I thought we were to stay in Tannaris for
several more days,” Calia said.

“You may depend upon Pyrsig’s skills. He is
wiser than he knows.” Ultan waved one hand and Calia turned from
him and went out the door, away from the Great Mage and his
beautiful room, into the garden.

The Kantian Queen
sailed out of the
bay on an ebbing tide, leaving early morning mist and smoky
volcanoes behind. Away from the land, the sky was perfectly clear
and so was the water, with no sign of pirate ships lurking in the
distance.

“Now, Captain Pyrsig,” Lady Elgida declared
with considerable force, “I expect you to sail directly to Kinath.
I have suffered enough delays during this journey.”

“Ye must understand,” the captain said, “that
I cannot do what ye want.”

“And why not?” Lady Elgida sputtered, her
cheeks flushing with irritation. She took a threatening step toward
the captain. “You were hired to convey me to Kinath!”

“We cannot sail directly south,” Durand
interrupted her incipient tirade, “because the wind is blowing from
the south, against us, you see.”

“I do not see!”

“We’ll have to tack,” Captain Pyrsig
explained. “We’ll sail back and forth, covering twice and perhaps
three times the distance to Kinath. We’ll get ye there my lady, but
it’ll take longer than ye want.”

“Captain Pyrsig, I am most unhappy about this
situation,” Lady Elgida informed him.

“So am I,” the captain responded. “I’d gladly
put ye ashore this very day. If ye know a magical spell that will
change the direction of the wind, I’ll be happy to hear it.”

He spoke with great seriousness, but Calia
noticed the twinkle in his eyes and knew he was enjoying the
argument with Lady Elgida. The woman who was accustomed to imposing
her will on everyone in her service and the captain who was sole
ruler of his ship had met their matches in each other.