The Betrayal (35 page)

Rephanin stood in the corridor, his eyes dark in the shadow of his hood. “I congratulate you on finding a mindspeaker, my lady. I suppose you knew of her potential when you brought her here? You might have informed me.”

Heléri's brows drew together. She pushed wide the door, stepping back and gesturing to him to enter.

“You are mistaken. I did not bring her here.” She glanced toward Eliani.

Rephanin's gaze followed hers, and he looked briefly startled. It seemed he had not known Eliani was there. He stepped in and closed the door, shutting out the daylight, then put back his hood and gazed at Eliani with an intensity she now found familiar, if still uncomfortable. When he moved toward her, she put up her chin, watching him warily.

“Look at her. Hardly more than a child.” Rephanin's gaze shifted to Heléri. “Turisan is not the best choice to guide her.”

“They will find their way.”

Rephanin shook his head. “Two children in the dark. We cannot afford it in these times.”

Eliani began to feel insulted, and decided it was time she took part in this discussion. She stepped toward Rephanin.

“We are both experienced in the guardian arts, if that is what you mean, my lord.”

Rephanin turned gray eyes on her, a wry smile curving his lips. “Guardians are expendable. I meant that your gift needs shaping, my lady. You do not even
know its limits. Suppose you find them tomorrow as you gallop northward? What then?”

Eliani felt dismayed, for she had not considered that possibility. She was spared having to answer by Heléri's gentle voice.

“I do not think that will be the case, Rephanin. Their gift is as powerful as any I have witnessed.”

This seemed to anger the magelord. He stared at Eliani, his expression hungry.

“Such a gift deserves experienced guidance.”

“They shall have it.”

Rephanin looked at Heléri. “Yours?”

“And yours, if you will offer it. Should we speak privately of this?”

Rephanin seemed to take this as a challenge, for his eyes narrowed as he stared at Heléri. To Eliani's surprise, it was he who looked away. Heléri's voice was gentle as she spoke.

“They discovered their gift in Alpinon, Rephanin. Just after Evennight. I learned of it afterward.”

The magelord froze at her words, and a look of grief fleeted across his face. He cast one glance at Eliani—almost desperate, she thought—then strode to the door and went out without another word.

Heléri sighed. “You must pardon him, Eliani. He is not himself.”

“But why is he angry with me?”

Eliani turned her back on the door and went to stir the fire, catching up an iron poker more elaborate than any such tool had a right to be and plunging it into the coals. Heléri joined her at the hearth, resuming her seat.

“Not angry. Envious. He has long coveted a gift such as yours.”

Astonished, Eliani turned to look at her. “He
is
a mindspeaker! Turisan said he can speak to anyone!”

“Anyone in his presence. Though he did not speak to me just now. Did he—”

“No, thank the spirits!” Eliani stabbed the poker into the fire's heart, raising sparks.

Heléri sat watching quietly for some moments. Having relieved her feelings, Eliani put aside the poker and returned to her chair to sit glowering at the flames. Heléri turned to her.

“Rephanin can speak to anyone in his presence, but only while they remain in his presence. He cannot speak across distance, nor even through closed doors. Distance speech is the gift he craves, and I am afraid that your finding it has vexed him.”

“He may have my share and welcome!”

Heléri met Eliani's gaze, plainly amused. Eliani reluctantly smiled back. She had not meant it, she silently acknowledged. For all her protests, she would not now relinquish her gift, even if it were possible.

Glenhallow lay before the two returning riders, its golden walls pale in the light of a rising moon. Turisan gazed at them, feeling less exhilarated than he had when they had left Skyruach. The long ride back had given him ample time for doubt, and he worried that Eliani might change her mind.

An agreement to make a pledge was not the pledge itself, and where handfastings were concerned, the creed's stricture of keeping faith was held not to be in effect until the actual handfasting was performed. Eliani could, without need for atonement or even explanation, withdraw at any time before the ceremony, and he feared she might do so.

He had sent no questing thoughts toward her as he rode. Now, as they let their horses take an easy pace across the center bridge, he ventured to break silence.

Eliani? We are approaching the city gates.

We await you in the public circle.

The circle?

Jharan has decreed that you be given formal welcome.

Turisan winced.
My father.

Amusement rippled through her khi, making him abandon the apology it had been his first instinct to offer. He felt a swell of love for her, so strong he feared it would be expressed in his khi. He glanced toward Luruthin, who seemed absorbed in his own thoughts.

The outer gate was opened to them by a contingent of guardians. The street between the two walls was lined with folk, many bearing torches and lanterns, and the inner gate, too, was tended by guardians. As the ornately worked barriers swung open, Turisan saw that the crowd was much thicker along the main avenue. Blessings and good wishes blended into one long, happy cheer.

An escort of guardians preceded him and Luruthin up the avenue. A horn sounded as the riders reached the public circle's east side. Attendants came forward to take the horses, and as Turisan dismounted, he traded a glance with Luruthin, who looked rather overwhelmed. Turisan himself had not seen such a gathering that he could remember.

Two lines of guardians held clear a passage from the avenue to the circle's center, where all the Council stood gathered beneath pennons fluttering by torchlight in a crisp evening breeze. Turisan could see Eliani waiting there with Jharan and Felisan at the base of the falcon. His heart beat faster at the thought of being near her. He wished all these hundreds of well-wishers elsewhere.

A second horn sounded as he and Luruthin arrived in the center of the circle. Without pausing, Turisan drew the folded pages from his tunic—ribbons dangling
loose from the seals—and walked straight to Eliani to place them in her hands.

The ghost of a smile that crossed her lips was reward enough. She looked up at him, and as their gazes met, a cheer broke forth from the assembled crowd.

The horn pierced through the noise, calling stridently for attention. Jharan stepped forward and bowed to his son.

“Welcome, Lord Turisan. You and Lady Eliani have given us new hope today. May your gift serve us well in these direful times.”

He offered his arm and clasped Turisan's tightly, then turned to Luruthin, thanking him for his part in the day's test. He kept his remarks short, to Turisan's immense relief. In a few moments the guardians opened a new path eastward into the palace, and Jharan indicated that his son should lead the Council in.

Turisan turned to Eliani, bowed gravely, and offered his arm. She laid her hand on it, causing a delicious prickling of khi to climb up to his shoulder as he led her toward the palace to the accompaniment of cheers.

May I have a private word with you, my lady?

You are.

I mean, may I see you privately?

He sensed her hesitation.
Lady Jhinani has arranged a reception in your honor.

In
our
honor
.

He turned his head to look at her, saw a slight flush wash into her cheek. He had no wish to embarrass her in the midst of this crush of folk.

Afterward, perhaps?

All right. Yes, we must discuss tomorrow.

As they passed through Hallowhall's entrance, a new crowd greeted them. The heads of all Glenhallow's notable clans, visiting dignitaries from elsewhere
in Southfæld, and it seemed every foreigner who had traveled to the Council were gathered in the great hall. They crowded around, each wanting to express good wishes. Talking with them was tiresome, and Turisan was anxious lest Eliani be overwhelmed by it, but she bore it patiently. She had kind words for each new person she met, and her thanks were sincere, even the hundredth time she expressed them.

This was Felisan's daughter, the confident lady he had seen in Highstone at Evennight. Turisan felt proud of her, the more because he knew that she, like he, disliked this sort of occasion.

Once the feasting has commenced, we can escape.

But not yet.

He followed Eliani's gaze and saw Jhinani approaching, dressed in formal robes glinting with silver. She smiled as she offered both hands to Turisan. She had stood as a mother to him after her sister had crossed, and it was a mother's pride that shone in her eyes now. She squeezed his hands, then released one and offered it to Eliani.

“Welcome, Lord Turisan, Lady Eliani! Congratulations on your success!”

Turisan nodded, and Eliani murmured her thanks. Jhinani looked past them, smiling.

“And Theyn Luruthin. You will be remembered for your part in this day's events.”

Eliani stepped aside, allowing Luruthin to come forward. He bowed.

“I thank you, though my part was small and will not be remembered long.”

“Oh, no! It is already being wrought into song!”

Luruthin blinked. “Song?”

Felisan stepped up beside him. “In golden chords, Cousin! You three will live in legend. Talinan the bard
is here and has already composed seven verses. I have heard them. ‘The riders twain to Skyruach made them haste, Lord Turisan and Luruthin the bold—’”

Luruthin looked dismayed. “Oh, no!”

“It is a most excellent ballad! Jhinani, I have spoken with Talinan, and he is willing to sing what is finished to night.”

Jhinani smiled. “By all means. Invite him to go to the gallery. Our minstrels will accompany him if he desires it.”

“He is already with them.” Felisan nodded toward the gallery above, where two musicians were playing while the rest had their heads together in animated discussion.

Jhinani glanced toward them, then turned back to Turisan and Eliani. “A fitting tribute, I am sure. To -night we celebrate what you have accomplished this day and the promise of your gift for the future!”

She raised a hand, and the tall doors into the feast hall swung open. The crowd surged toward it, sweeping them along. Turisan and Eliani were separated quickly, much to his annoyance. Surrounded by well-wishers, they could scarcely move.

Turisan began to edge his way toward the back of the hall, hoping to break free. He kept his eye on Eliani while he answered questions and accepted praises. She was being pressed toward the banquet table, which was laden with the elegant art of Hallowhall's kitchens.

There is a door behind you, just the other side of the table. If you move toward the honey cakes, you may be able to slip through it.

Ah, I see it. Shall I bring you a cake?

Her playfulness gave him sudden hope. If she could tease him, she must be comfortable enough with him. He hungered not for cakes but for the sweetness of her lips.

Follow the corridor to your right, and you will reach the arcade. I will meet you there.

He made his own way toward a different door and before long was able to excuse himself and withdraw. Breathing a sigh of relief, he hastened to the arcade.

Luruthin was there ahead of him, talking with Felisan. The tone of his voice was earnest.

“She should not go with only Greenglens to escort her. I could accompany her.”

Felisan smiled. “That is good of you, Luruthin, but she will not be with only Greenglens. Ten of our guard will join her in Highstone, and ten of Jharan's will return to Midrange.”

“But she should have kindred along, not just guardians! She—”

Luruthin broke off catching sight of Turisan. He came forward.

“You are talking of Eliani?”

Felisan nodded. “Yes, of her departure for Fireshore tomorrow.”

Turisan winced inwardly. He had forgotten Eliani's volunteering to ride to Fireshore, the pledge that had set off all this day's events. He was to bid her farewell so soon! Eliani joined them, glancing at Turisan. Luruthin turned to her.

“Eliani, I offer to accompany you to Fireshore. I, too, would be glad to see Davhri.”

Eliani glanced from him to Turisan and back. “That is kind of you …”

A slight frown creased Felisan's brow. “That would leave only two of us representing Alpinon in the Council.”

Luruthin turned to him. “The Steppes have only two councillors.”

“Ah, but Pashani counts for at least two herself!”

Felisan grinned, but Luruthin, it seemed, did not appreciate the jest. He turned his gaze to Eliani again, eyes filled with anxious hope.

“I would be honored to accompany you, Cousin.”

With sinking dismay, Turisan realized that Luruthin had strong hopes of Eliani or perhaps had been her lover already. He had known they were close, but Luruthin's khi sang with more than unfulfilled hope. A stab of anger smote Turisan, but he schooled his face to show nothing and controlled his own khi as he spoke.