Fires of Aggar (39 page)

“Now, you said you couldn’t See why your aunt had turned from you?”

“To be truthful, I’m no longer certain if she’s ever been loyal.” Llinolae looked back to the garden with a somber resignation. “When I think back, so many things seem… the circumstances seemed too contrived and her explanations too conveniently offered. She has this knack for stepping in with some tidbit of new information or for proffering some tidy reason, just as suspicions might start suggesting a traitor within the patrol led to its ambush or a Clan’s party had altered its attack plans because they learned we were waiting.”

“Those sorts of coincidences are suspicious,” the Mistress agreed.

“Aye, but — Mae n’Pour! ” Llinolae bit off with a savage shake of her head. “I wish n’Athena were nearer today!”

“It would help.” The Mistress n’Shea merely nodded, not in the least offended by the younger woman’s desires. “Di’nay is much shrewder at such intrigues than I. She will be back before dawn rises, if…?”

“It’s longer than I should wait. And no, Mistress, it’s not a grasp of schemes I need.” Llinolae sighed and shook her head at her own inabilities. “It’s just, even with my Sight’s talents, I can’t seem to…! I need skills I don’t have. I need to decipher the individual amarin to unthread the bias of emotions from thought — from truth! And I can’t do it!” Her hand went up in helpless frustration.

“You decipher both better than any Blue Sight I’ve ever known,” her teacher corrected her, causing Llinolae only more confusion. The Mistress smiled in that patient way she had, and nodded. “Only Blue Sights trained as the Council’s Seers — and even then, I think, only the eldest of them — might be able discern more details than you, yet they can merely describe what the Council Masters prompt them to report. So very much of what they perceive is left unspoken, because they no longer experience themselves as individuals and can’t judge the importance of what should be shared. As for the other Blue Sights I’ve known… we may retain our sense of individuality, but we have a very hard time ushering all the pieces of life’s puzzles together. We sense the amarin of others by suspending our perception of self for a brief moment or two. It lends us information, but it also overwhelms us with a barrage of impressions. Often there is simply too much information to organize those impressions into a coherent, recognizable pattern, because we didn’t…” Now it was the elder who grasped for words.

Llinolae waved the struggle aside. “Patience Mistress, I do understand. It’s a matter of too much or too little. The Seers immerse themselves in the amarin too long and completely lose their sense of self. The Blue Sights immerse themselves long enough to grasp some details. But you don’t recognize the source or sense of it all, because you return too quickly to your own sense of self. Considering how adamantly I’ve always been in being me, I shouldn’t be surprised at how few details I do perceive. It seems the skills I wouldn’t learn as a child, I may come to rue as an adult.”

“You have an intensity in you that has always been mirrored in your amarin, Llinolae. I would never say you See less than other Blue Sights.” The Mistress seemed amused. “You merely See differently.”

“Not surprising, all things considered,” pointed out the young woman with matching humor. As a child, she had refused to learn the usual way of doing things with her Sight, and so she had spent much of her mentor’s time exploring ideas for alternative approaches before returning her harmon to Khirla where she could experiment within the safety of stone. Such a trial-and-error method had often left much to be desired. Her visits to dey Sorormin had never seemed frequent enough. Her stolen practice time had always seemed too short. But as the Dracoon’s heir, she’d had other duties to tend and a score of people to notice if she was late.

“You had an odd tutelage, I’d never deny that,” the Mistress agreed, drawing Llinolae’s attention back from those memories. “Di’nay was the first to recognize it, though. You had the tenacity to learn what you needed, despite the improbability of balancing time and patience and resources.”

“In other words, I was stubborn,” Llinolae surmised dryly.

“And ingenuous. You may use your Blue Gift differently, Daughter, but you use it impressively well.”

Surprise widened her blue eyes as Llinolae suddenly realized, “You’re serious.”

“I am. When you first began to work with me, I was afraid of the limitations I might inadvertently be imposing upon you. Because I’ve no talent myself for out-of-time Seeing, I’d no way to know how the skills of the Blue Sight had been refined during the generations that lay between us. As a result, I tried very hard to let you decide what was appropriate for you to learn — though I was a bit uncomfortable letting a child make some of those decisions. But Di’nay was right… you were undaunted by any of it. Whether it concerned your love and loyalty to family, your responsibilities to Khirlan’s folk, or your own development, you approached each challenge with passionate determination. And you succeed. Llinolae — you can do things I’d thought only Seers might attempt and yet you do them without a Seer’s loss of self!

“So yes, you did learn ways to use your Blue Sight that are completely different from anyone I’ve imagined — I wouldn’t even pretend that I actually understand how you manage some of what you do. But clearly you’ve taught yourself the control and precision as well.”

“Then why have I been so blind to Taysa, Mistress?”

“My best guess would be, its because the intensity of her amarin is a passionate match for your own. It’s the most common reason why a Blue Sight or Seer has trouble deciphering someone’s amarin.”

“But I don’t do things that way.” Llinolae felt the frustration begin to rise within her again. “I don’t read emotions by locking gazes. I don’t anticipate a sword’s swing by sharing an opponent’s own plans. I can’t do it! I won’t do it. I’d follow the barest trail of the most ancient fossils’ amarin through a league of rock before I’d learn to impose my consciousness on another’s soul!”

“The simple fact that you have often followed such fossil trails, should impress you with the strength of the powers and skills you do have.”

“Exchanging pleasantries with a tree has little to do with deciphering the truth of a court’s intrigue!”

“Llinolae, you absorb the Sense of truth and lies through the flux in Aggar’s flowing cycles. You always See a happening as it actually occurred, not as an individual’s biased perception. You always perceive the complexities of greater patterns. You are never limited to a single person’s awareness, save when you choose your own. And it is your very own awareness which then allows you step back from the details and fit the facts together.” The Sight wrapped about Llinolae in a cloak of compelling truth as the Mistress n’Shea leaned forward in eagerness. “Yes, your skills are best when away from the stone courts and chambers. Like all Blue Sights, you’re more attuned to what is true or what is elusive, when you’re physically closer to the natural webs of living amarin. But you’ve spent most of your life riding in and out of Aggar’s Great Forest, Llinolae, and you’ve interacted with the awareness of those great Ancients well… with patience and respect, despite your tenacious refusal to be swallowed by their flowing Life Cycles. As a result, you’re becoming more and more skilled at drawing upon the power they offer. Soon even your time in the cities will barely interfere with that bond. You’ve already begun to notice more subtleties in your Court — like the growing suspicions you’ve had for Taysa. Nothing in her interactions with you particularly changed, yet your perceptions shifted.”

Sadness curved Llinolae’s lips. As if she were not overwhelmed with court baskers and schemers already!

The Mistress n’Shea chuckled, Llinolae’s Sight freely sharing that impression with her.

“Whether it’s fortunate or not, I’m afraid I’m beginning to See what you mean, but it lends me the very discouraging impression that I’ll find things in Khirla are every bit as bad as Brit’s insinuated.” The sigh Llinolae slowly released, was a weary one. Their swing swayed a little as she leaned forward to set her elbows on her knees, linking her hands together loosely. “Given I read people so differently, how do I assess what I See?”

“Separate what the Forest prompts you to know from what your personal feelings assume.”

Llinolae’s scowl returned.

“You find you still dislike what these Sisters imply.”

“I do.”

“What has the Forest shown you?”

“That they speak the truth. But there is more from what I know for myself.” Llinolae remembered the devastation of the fire weapons sweeping through her small camp — and the two blue cloaked executioners among her Steward’s Swords. “The morning we rode east for the Clan’s Plateau, a pair of the sword carriers I’d chosen to accompany me were taken ill. I didn’t think much of it. With Khirla’s Feasts in celebration, it’s not so unusual for a good number of folks to get sick from some new food or spice. Samcin quietly arranged for two replacements — walked them down himself to explain the others’ absence.”

“Samcin is your aunt’s consort, isn’t he?”

“He’s also in charge of the Steward’s Swords — very convenient for Taysa, I’m realizing. The replacements he arranged seemed anxious, but no more so than the rest of us. The others were anxious about being caught as we worked our way far enough into the Clan’s lands to find a settlement other than Clantown. I’d hoped to persuade someone less involved with the militia’s ambitions to approach the Clan Leads with my petition for peace negotiations.

“Samcin’s two sword carriers weren’t worried about the Clan scouts and the possibility of being ambushed, however.” Llinolae stared grimly down at her hands. “Turned out they were waiting to do the ambushing. I Saw the tension and jitters in them that evening — they spread to most everyone pretty quick. Still I didn’t think it was odd; we’d found signs of Clan scouts in the area and nerves were understandably taut.” Llinolae fell silent, feeling the stunned shock of the Forest and her companions at those first bursts of death. She wondered again if that moment of immobility had been an eternity or an eye blink.

“What were they armed with?” the Mistress n’Shea prompted gently.

“Fire weapons — the small sort that belt on under a tunic. And a dozen or more descending Clan scouts as reinforcements.”

The Mistress sighed.

“Obviously someone is very serious about keeping me away from the Clan Leads with my proposition. And Taysa made sure they’d succeed by planting a few sympathizers inside my own camp.”

“You sound certain it was your aunt giving the orders and not Samcin’s own doing.”

“I am. Samcin may be a good soldier, but he’s a mediocre commander. He doesn’t eat or sleep without her instructions — it took me an unfortunate amount of time to notice just how doggedly loyal to her he is. But given the illegal taxes and tariffs Brit and Sparrow described, I suspect Taysa rather enjoys having him intimidate the merchants and crafters into mute acquiescence.” The picture she was beginning to form of her aunt was growing less and less pretty as they went, Llinolae thought.

“What are you going to do about her?”

“Nothing for the moment.”

The promptness of Llinolae’s response surprised the Mistress n’Shea, despite the sensitivity of the Sight stretched between them.

“Look — I can’t trust her. I can trust Gwyn.”

“The Royal Marshal you spoke of?”

Llinolae affirmed it with a nod. “And as much as this Brit n’Minona dislikes me for my past stupidities regarding Taysa and Samcin, she and her companion are equally willing to help me end my District’s struggles! No matter what Taysa’s greed has engineered over the past seasons, two things remain clear — the fighting between Clan and Khirlan must stop, and the fire weapons must go.

“The Clan’s fire weapons are the fundamental base for their militia’s power. The weapons are being used more and more often to do more and more damage — the fact that the two Swords Taysa sent out with me had also been supplied with the nightmarish things only attests to the broadening problem. If she’s bartering with someone for fire weapons in return for betrayal — then you can wager others are too.”

A considering nod accepted that logic. The Mistress n’Shea smiled humorously. “As you speak, I can almost hear Di’nay saying something along the same lines.”

“She taught me much of strategy and schemes,” Llinolae acknowledged. “I could not propose to do what I am, if it had not been for her teachings.”

“Both she and I would wish it otherwise for you, Daughter.”

“I know.”

The Mistress rubbed the bridge of her nose in a weary gesture that made Llinolae smile faintly. The gesture was an unconscious mime of the Mistress n’Athena that reminded the young woman of how many of the tenmoon seasons her two mentors had seen together. Llinolae wondered if she and Gwyn might ever decide to risk enough commitment to acquire a few reflective habits as well.

“Then you’re still intent on trying to reach a Clan settlement, before you return to Khirla and deal with your aunt?”

“Aye, and arrange some contact with the Clan Leads.”

“And the fire weapons?”

“If the Clan Leads will not negotiate for some reasonable limits…,” Llinolae grew stony. “I’ll find a way to negotiate their precious weapons completely out of existence.”

The Mistress n’Shea met Llinolae’s blue eyes without comment. The young woman needed to resort to the Sight to communicate the fiery determination of her vow. The Mistress remembered the unswerving tenacity in the student she’d once trained. She saw now how the child had grown as the challenges had, and with a brushing pain of grief, she knew the Dracoon would die rather than fail Khirlan’s people.

Llinolae lifted the tent flap, pausing before moving outside to join the others around the dying camp fire. Even in the warm softness of the summer’s evening the amarin were wearying with the mistrusts and despairs of the small band. The forest’s sense of discord that she had Seen before the caravan’s arrival yesterday still lingered strongly. At least Ty had finally deigned to join them for eventide. But even Ril had grown more tired of dealing with her packmate’s intolerances than Llinolae had; Ril had withdrawn into the stabling tent quite a while back. Too bad Llinolae couldn’t follow the example as easily. But then, she’d spent too many seasons dealing with Court to believe anything could be settled by avoiding either Ty or Brit.